


Stand Unshaken

by Wilderwest



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Western, Alternate Universe-Cowboys, F/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), alternative universe-outlaws
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilderwest/pseuds/Wilderwest
Summary: The Wilderwest is shrinking.The year is 1899 and outlaws like Hiccup "Night Fury" Haddock are being hunted. Tired of running, Hiccup must choose between being loyal to the only life he's ever known or leaving it all behind.





	1. How to Rob a Train (part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfic in legitimately over a decade, so it is definitely a WIP. As I'm really only writing it to indulge myself and improve as a writer, I am happy to receive (polite) feedback. :)
> 
> P.S. It's heavily inspired by RDR2, but you don't need to know the game's story to read this fic.

The Wilderwest was shrinking before Hiccup’s eyes.

As a young boy, Hiccup’s father had told him stories of a Wilderwest untouched by man. Stories of forests with trees as tall as giants with roots that dug to the very core of the Earth. Mountains that cut through the land and broke the sky with their jagged peaks. Deserts that stood as a last, arid, defense against mans’ conquest. Stories so enthralling that Hiccup couldn’t resist the call of adventure, and at the age of fourteen slipped from his bedroom window in the night. But now, the map was growing and his world shrinking.

Each night more and more campfires would dot the land like wildflowers in a field. The untamed wilderness that Hiccup had grown to love was being replaced with towns and farms and trading posts, leaving only tree stumps and train tracks in their wake.

The boy was on his knees, peering over a cliff’s edge at one such set of tracks. Below him, the tracks cut through a mountain canyon heading from the East to towns farther and farther West. Lighting a cigarette, Hiccup was careful to avoid spilling ash onto the map that was spread out in front of him. Methodically, he dragged his pencil against the parchment, marking positions in relation to the land around him. Leaning back on his heels, he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“I know it’s been a rough few months since Berk, bud,” he said, inclining his head toward his black Arabian that grazed feet away, “but I thought…Well, that we were lying low.” Hiccup took another drag from his cigarette, “But Viggo is Viggo. Always planning and scheming.”

A sigh, then in an impression of the gang’s leader. “Just one more, Hiccup my boy. One more and then we’ll have the money we need to head back West.” Another sigh, his voice his own again, “To head home.”

Toothless whinnied, his ears flicking in the direction of Hiccup’s voice. Sensing the distress of his rider, the horse stepped closer, pushing his head against him. Casually, Hiccup rested a hand on his muzzle.

“Just gotta have faith. Right, bud?” He stroked the velvet of Toothless’s nose and turned his attention back to the train tracks below him. “The train will come through here at approximately 2 a.m. Heather and the twins will already be on board, posing as passengers. The rest of the gang will catch the train as it passes through this canyon. In and out before any of Grimmel’s men notice they’ve been hit. Of course, this all counts on you being able to catch a moving train.”

The horse pounded his hooves against the ground in excitement, kicking up dust as he did so. Hiccup laughed, his voice the only sound in the late afternoon. He waved the dust away, “Good. Once I’m on the train you’ll have to keep pace until I can get to the brakes.”

Taking one last look at his surroundings, Hiccup folded his map and tucked it away in the inside pocket of his vest. Standing, he put his black leather hat over his auburn mop of hair to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sun and dropped his cigarette in the dirt. Pulling himself into Toothless’ saddle he looked to the East in the direction of camp. “Let’s get back to Raven Point, bud. We need to make sure everything is ready.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Raven Point camp was nestled in a cove hidden deep in the mountain. Surrounded on all sides by towering evergreens, the camp was secluded from even the most adventurous of passersby. At each of the entrances Viggo had posted guards, but Hiccup paid them little mind as and he and Toothless tore up the path toward the camp. Spewing dirt in all directions, Toothless skidded to a halt, Hiccup flinging himself from the saddle. At the center of the camp Viggo, Johann, and Snotlout sat around a table. Engrossed in a map and discussing the details for the heist, they paid him little mind.

Johann caught his gaze as Hiccup approached. Johann was a tall man, tanned, and always willing to tell tales of his time as a Navy Captain. However, as Hiccup got closer to the table, the familiar jovial looks were gone, replaced by a bitter scowl that covered the portion of his face his large beard didn’t hide. The man turned his attention from Hiccup back to Viggo, “Why are we doing this, Viggo? I thought our plan was to lie low until we could head out West.”

Anger flashed across Viggo’s features, but Hiccup pretended he didn’t see it. The man had been less than pleasant since the death of his brother.  “We need funds, Johann. It costs money to caravan twenty people out West! Surely you of all people can understand that. “

“Of course, I can, Viggo. What I don’t understand is robbing a bloody train when Flyers are breathing down our neck!”

“Everything we had, we lost in Berk! We have to earn it back if we ever want to get out of here. We rob this train and we’re set.” Viggo pounded his fist on the table, causing Snotlout to jump.

Hiccup cleared his throat, taking a seat beside Snotlout. “Maybe Johann is right, Viggo. The plan was to lie low. Robbing a train isn’t exactly ‘lying low’. It’ll bring every Flyer this side of the Archipelago our way.”

Viggo straightened up, putting his arms behind his back and looking down his nose at the boy. It was the look Viggo gave Hiccup when he had overstepped his place. Hiccup had received that look a number of times in the years since Viggo had brought him in, but it never failed to make him feel like that starving fishbone of a boy Viggo had found in the woods so many years ago.

“Ah, Hiccup. I was wondering when you would return. Is everything in place for tonight?

Sighing, Hiccup met Viggo’s gaze, “Everything should go as planned. We can wait for the train to pass through the canyon on a nearby cliff’s edge. Toothless and I scouted it just now. But Vig—”

“We ride tonight, Hiccup. Best be ready.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Thundering across the heartlands of the Archipelago, the Grimborn Gang was a formidable sight. Viggo, dressed in a red leather vest and a dark overcoat led the formation atop a large grey Turkoman he had named Skrill. A mean beast of a horse, he shared the same cold efficiency as his rider. To the right, Hiccup and Toothless kept pace. Dressed in all black, the pair were nearly invisible as they raced through the night. To the left, Johann rode dutifully, occasionally casting Hiccup glances when their horses’ gallops allowed for the exchange of looks. A division was growing in the gang. Perhaps it had always existed beneath the surface, but after the Berk Massacre the group had been left beaten down and open wounds allowed for resentment to grow like an infection.

Hiccup glanced behind him where Snotlout was covering his left side. Atop his red Mustang, Hookfang, Snotlout caught Hiccup’s eyes and offered a reassuring smile. Regardless of the inner politics of the Gang, Hiccup trusted in Snotlout. Though the shorter man was rash and often narcissistic, he had saved Hiccup’s life more times than he cared to admit.

Behind Snotlout the three rider-less horses of Barf, Belch, and Windshear thundered along. If everything went according to plan, they would be reunited with their riders before the dawn. Bringing up the formation, Silent Sven, Hamish, and Savage rode their horses carrying the bulk of the gang’s ammunition.

 “Hiccup” Viggo shouted above the thunder of hoofbeats, “You’ll ride down first. Deal with the engineer and the conductor in the head end. After you’ve stopped the train, make your way to the back train car. The twins will meet up with you. Look for anything of value. Grimmel wouldn’t be sending this train through without reason.” Hiccup nodded, keeping his eyes focused ahead, Toothless’s reins gripped tight in his hands. “Snotlout, you and Heather will be on crowd control. Keep them quiet, and if you see anything of value, collect it. Savage, Sven, Hamish will take care of the guards. Johann and I will run point. Does everyone understand their job?”

A chorus of affirmations and Hiccup could see Viggo’s smirk reach his eyes. It filled the boy with dread and sickening excitement.

Determinedly, cruelly, Viggo smirked, leaning low over his horse and urging it faster. “Well then,” he said. “Let’s rob a train!”

Cheers and cries of “Snotlout! Snotlout!” rose above the hoofbeats, and the Grimborn Gang set their eyes on fortune.

✺ ✺ ✺

For the second time that day, Hiccup peered over the edge of a cliff, his forest green eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of the train. Beneath him, Toothless shuffled his hooves. Hiccup could feel the tension coiling in Toothless’s muscles. The horse always grew jittery before a race.

Silence stretched the night. Then a train’s whistle pierced the night. In the distance a tower of smoke billowed up into the night sky, hiding the stars from view.

“Masks up,” Viggo ordered, lifting a silk handkerchief to cover the bottom half of his face. “Hiccup. Go.”

Covering his face with a black cloth, Hiccup steeled his doubts and cracked the reins, shouting “Ride, bud!”. Identity hidden and horse charging, Hiccup was no longer himself. In his place rode Night Fury, the infamous outlaw feared across the Wilderwest. Toothless’s hooves pounded against the hard earth as he propelled himself forward like black lightning. The outlaw was only vaguely aware of the gang members that followed in his shadow as he rushed down the slope and along the tracks. Leaning low over Toothless’s neck, Hiccup could see the light of the head end and then it was rushing past him and the roar of the train filled his ears as he balanced atop Toothless and leaped onto the flat train bed. Rolling with the momentum of the jump, Hiccup sprung to his feet. Beside him, Toothless had pivoted and was running parallel to the train.

Hiccup hopped the gap separating a flatbed form the front end but blocking his access to the engine room was a large container filled with the train’s coal. Pulling himself up and over the lip of the container, he tumbled into the bin sending a black cloud of dust billowing up. Lungs burning, Hiccup pushed forward, careful not to jam his prosthetic between the rocks.

Attention on the steps in front of him, Hiccup had to throw himself to the ground to avoid the engineer’s coal shovel connecting with his head. Coal dug sharply into his back, and although he avoided the first swing, he barely had time to raise his arms to protect his body from the second strike. The impact of metal on bone sent vibrations through his body. Disoriented, he kicked out like a drowning man, sending coal flying up in all directions. The engineer staggered back, leaning away from the coal Hiccup was kicking up.

Gunshots rang out in the air reminding Hiccup of his goals, and with newfound strength, he lunged forward. Grappling for the shovel, Hiccup kicked the engineer and as he was pushed back, Hiccup charged. The force of the charge pushed them both over the lip of the storage bin and onto the hard ground. Winded, Hiccup rolled on top of the engineer, pinning him to the ground. Hiccup’s green eyes met the panic-filled engineer’s.

“Stay here, will you?” Hiccup said as he removed his old, rope lasso from his belt and made quick work of tying up the engineer. More gunshots competed with the roar of the train, and Hiccup quickly closed the gap between himself and the front end’s door.

The engine room felt more like a furnace than a train car, but Hiccup didn’t have long to consider the heat as he found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun.

“Up! Put yer hands up! Or I’ll fill you full of bullets!” The conductor said, each word emphasized by a nudge of his shotgun.

 _Gods Dammit_.

Hiccup raised his arms, palms out, and slowly stepped back from the man. “Sir, put the gun down. _Please._ Nobody needs to get hurt.”

Two shots were fired.

The first from the conductor.

The second from Hiccup’s revolver.

The body of the conductor fell to the ground, dead. Hiccup stepped over the body, careful to avoid getting blood on his boot from the puddle that had pooled around what remained of the corpse’s head. Sparing no time for regrets, he grasped the handle of the air brake and pulled with all his might. The handle turned slowly, but he could feel the release of pressure and hear the screech of the tracks. The train came to a shuddering halt, and Hiccup allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. Then, he did as any outlaw would do: straightened his hat and whistled for his horse.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, bud” Hiccup said as he jumped into the saddle. A thin sheen of sweat covered Toothless’s coarse hair, but otherwise, the horse was unbothered by the exertion. “Let’s get to the back car and make sure the twins haven’t set anything on fire.”

Pulling the reigns, Toothless turned and loped toward the final train car. Through the train windows, Hiccup could make out the shapes of Heather and Snotlout moving through the cars and collecting belongings from the passengers. At the top of the hill, Hiccup could spy Viggo watching over the heist, a sniper rifle in his hands. Periodically, he would hear a shot and he knew Viggo was silencing a runaway.

The last train car was windowless, but Hiccup could see light pouring from a hole the twins had dynamited into the armored wall. Ruffnut was leaning out of the jagged entrance, excitedly stuffing her loot into Barf’s saddlebags. On noticing Hiccup she straightened up and saluted.

“Took you long enough!”

Tuffnut poked his head out, unlit cigar dangling from his lips and arms full of bonds and coin purses. “H! My man, you have got to get in here! Grimmel is _loaded_!” Tuff said as he dumped goods into Belch’s bags and turned his head toward Toothless. “Good job with the running, T. Saw it all from the window. Very impressive.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes and hopped down from his horse who was now basking in Tuffnut’s praise. Ducking his head, Hiccup stepped into the train car. “Yeah, yeah. Just get everything loaded. The sooner we’re out of he— Wh-What is that!?” Hiccup gestured to the pile of bodies stacked in front of a large, mahogany desk.

“It was them or us!” Ruffnut said

“Yeah, H. They jumped us!” Tuff added.

Hiccup groaned but stepped around the bodies to search through the desk. While the twins were excellent at nabbing shiny things, they often overlooked discreet items of value. “You guys understand the higher the body count the higher the bounty, right? The more men who will be looking for us?”

“They have to catch us first,” Ruffnut said.

“Like they caught Ryker back in Berk? Or Dagur?”

“That’s cold, H.” Tuffnut said.

Hiccup pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Look, all I’m saying is that we need to be careful. The less attention we bring to ourselves the better. Just finish the jo—” the words left his throat, but never reached the air as he laid eyes on an envelope with the orange wax seal of a Singetail dragon:

_Flyers Detective Agency, Department of Security & Espionage, United Archipelago._

“Whataya find?” Ruff asked leaning over his shoulder with interest.

“A treasure map?” Tuff oohed leaning over his other shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup mumbled, “whatever it is just might make this job worth the risks, though.”

Hiccup’s fingers hovered over the seal, hesitating to break the wax. Whatever was inside the envelope could potentially be incredibly lucrative to the Grimborn Gang. The information could make the asinine heist worth it. Lifting the lip of the envelope, Hiccup pulled the thick linen paper out and scanned his eyes across the page—

Bullets pounded the far side of the train car, the noise reverberating through the tiny room and making Hiccup’s ears ring.

Ruff and Tuff both drew their weapons and jumped through the hole to find the source of the attack. Hiccup, sensing the situation escalating, shoved the letter into his satchel and made to follow his friends.

Ruffnut poked her head back through the hole, her eyes wide, “Hiccup, we have Flyers! They found us!”


	2. How to Rob a Train (Part 2)

Joining the fray, Hiccup was acutely aware of just how cramped the canyon was. With steep, rocky slopes behind him and a two-ton iron train blocking his path forward, he felt really and truly trapped.

On the far rim of the canyon, he could see uniformed men taking up positions. More men sat on horseback, ready to chase down any Grimborn who attempted to flee. At his back, Viggo had abandoned his position on Skrill for a more compact, tactical position behind a boulder. Calculated, even amidst the chaos, Viggo ensured that each shot from his rifle counted.

To Hiccup’s side, the twins were frantically digging through Barf and Belch’s saddlebags.

“Ruff! Tuff!” Hiccup called, “What are you planning?”

The twins turned to face hiccup, grinning at him with wide, toothy smiles. Their arms were overflowing with dynamite.

“Thorston Surprise!” Tuffnut said.

“I get to be the one to throw the dynamite!” Ruffnut added.

“No, you did it last time. I want to be the one to blow up!”

“You always mess it up, Butt-Elf!”

Even with bullets hitting the ground at their feet, the twins were bickering and bashing heads. Hiccup groaned loud enough to put an end to their antics. They looked at him expectantly.

“We don’t have time for this. We need to get everybody out of the canyon and into cover.”

“We can do that!” Ruffnut volunteered.

“Yeah, we’re on it, H!” Tuff said with a mock-salute.

Hiccup moved up, out of the potential blast radius, keeping his eyes on the slopes above him. Finding a vantage point, Hiccup fired six shots into the Flyers. Five hit their marks, and three agents fell to the ground. The remaining two slumped forward on their mounts, but Hiccup knew they wouldn’t recover.  

Inside the train cars, the passengers were growing emboldened. The presence of government agents inspired many of the once-beaten guards to rise up and reclaim their train. Charging from the train in droves, the Grimborn Gang was suddenly _very_ outnumbered.

Two train cars up, Hiccup could see Hamish and Savage firing rounds into the ranks of guards, but it did little to deter the guards from charging at Hiccup. Backed against the train, Hiccup reloaded his revolver. He fired one shot into a guard’s side before he was tackled by three more. Overwhelmed by their numbers and enclosed as he was, Hiccup was quickly subdued.

Knocked to the ground by the butt of a shotgun, his skull cracked against the rocky ground. His vision turned white and stars danced in his eyes. Defenseless, he clumsily threw up his arms to defend off the men’s blows. They kicked at his ribs and head until Hiccup couldn’t breathe and he was sure he would black out.

Three shots exploded above him and he was buried beneath the weight of the men.

“Come on, Hiccup! We don’t have all day!” Snotlout complained. Pulling Hiccup from the pile of bodies, Snotlout thrust Hiccup's revolver into his hands and put his hat back on his head. “You really should be more careful. I can’t constantly be saving you.”

Hiccup swayed, reaching out for the stockier man’s arm to steady himself. “Thanks, Snot. I owe you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Snotlout waived him off, then whistled for Hookfang. “Just don’t forget to tell everybody about how I so bravely rescued you from the clutches of death. “

Rolling his eyes, Hiccup whistled for Toothless. At the far end of the canyon, Hiccup could see the familiar shape cantering toward him.

“Sure, Snotlout. I’ll be sure to tell everyone how you jumped the train, stopped it single-handedly, and still found the time to save my life.”

“You would really do that for me?”

“No. Of course not.” Hiccup snarked, bending his knees and preparing to jump onto his horse. Toothless flashed by and Hiccup grabbed hold of the saddle, using the momentum to pull himself up. The maneuver made his stomach roll and his ribs throb.

Toothless raced up the rocky slope, each thud of his heavy hooves jarring Hiccup’s battered body. Hiccup pulled Toothless to a stop, joining the semi-circle that hard formed around Viggo. Then he slumped forward against Toothless’s neck, breathing hard. Hamish, Sven, and Savage stood guard and offered the gang cover fire as they attempted to regroup.

“What’s the plan, Viggo?” Heather asked.

“We need to take what we’ve found and leave,” Johann said.

Viggo, atop Skrill, pursed his lips and looked out on the battlefield. “We will ride together until we hit the tree line. Then you are to disperse and disappear. Regroup in two days at Raven Point. Do _not_ allow yourself to be followed.”

“Wait, wait!” Hiccup interjected. “Where are the twin—”

As if on cue, an explosion rocked the canyon and shook the ground beneath their feet. Smoke and dust clouded the air, but just beyond, Hiccup could see the damage the twins had ravaged. The far ledge was gone; destroyed.  Men and horses alike had been swept up in the ensuing landslide and were now pinned against the train.

“Found them.” Snotlout said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

From the smoke, Barf and Belch emerged, their hides covered in thick, black soot. Atop their backs rode the twins, laughing and high-fiving as they charged past.

Exasperated with their methods, but undeniably pleased with the results, Viggo snapped Skrill’s reins, pushing his horse into a gallop. Hiccup followed at his side, one hand gripping the saddle horn, and the other heavy with the weight of his revolver. The jolt of Toothless’s gait was making him sick, but he pushed the horse onward. The tree line was in sight, and Hiccup was about to peel off from the group into the safety of the forest when Heather’s scream ripped through the night.

Yards behind them, a single Flyer had pursued the gang in their retreat. Windshear, Heather’s mount, was panicking. Rearing on her back legs and bucking forward, the horse threw her rider to the ground. A trained horsewoman, Heather should have tucked and rolled to soften the landing. She should have jumped back to her feet and calmed her horse. But she didn’t. She was curled up on the ground, clutching at her shoulder and cursing. Dark, red blood spilled into the dirt, staining her fingers and the grey lace of her bodice.

“Snotlout, with me!” Hiccup shouted, pushing his own pain down and urging Toothless to reach her before the Flyer could finish the job. Raising his revolver, Hiccup closed one eye and shot the Flyer from his saddle.

Halting in front of Windshear, Hiccup vaulted from the saddle and attempted to calm the mare while Snotlout worked on pulling Heather from the ground.

“Oh, Thor, Fish is so gonna kill us!” Snotlout whined.

Heather was tucked into the boy’s arms like a bride, but she looked nothing short of miserable. Hair clung to her sweat-covered forehead and she lolled her head against Snotlout’s shoulder.

“Just get me home to him, first.” She said weakly.

With Windshear calm, Hiccup tied her to Hookfang. Then, he helped Heather onto the mustang’s saddle. He placed a hand on Snotlout’s arm, “Get her to camp. No detours. Straight back to camp, Flyers be damned. Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can do that. Right.” Snotlout muttered, his face scrunched in a rare look of determination.  “Okay, Hooky, get us home! Go!” He shouted spurring them forward. Hiccup watched as they disappeared into the tree line and hoped he had been quick enough.

✺ ✺ ✺

Toothless carried Hiccup across the state until trees turned to desert and Hati had chased the moon across the long, arcing sky. Dawn was on the verge of waking when he finally urged Toothless to slow. If they didn’t rest soon, Hiccup was certain he would keel over.

Nearing a familiar camping spot, Hiccup climbed down from the saddle and clucked his tongue for Toothless to follow.

The pair walked up a narrow path built into the side of a large rock formation. At the end, stood an erosional fin Hiccup had fondly dubbed _The Dragon’s Jaws_ because of the unique way the mouth of the cave protruded from the larger rock formation. The cave was high off the ground, giving Hiccup the ability to see for miles in any direction, and sharp rocks jutted up and down the mouth of the cave, serving as teeth for the dragon and acting as cover for Hiccup. Leading Toothless up the path, Hiccup was surprised to find the familiar shape of Skrill hitched to a tooth.

Viggo had erected a small camp in the mouth of the dragon. He was asleep on his bedroll, his back turned toward Hiccup. The remnants of a fire simmered softly in front of him. Hitching Toothless beside Skrill, Hiccup removed his bedroll from the saddle and stepped into the camp.

Immediately, Hiccup regretted the decision. Ever the light sleeper, Viggo was suddenly on his feet, his pistol level with Hiccup’s eye.

“It’s just me, Viggo.” Hiccup said softly.

“I told you to disperse. Not follow me like a dog.”

Insult aside, Viggo sat down and motioned for Hiccup to do the same. The man had removed his boots, overcoat, and vest, but he still looked more nouveau riche than outlaw. Anger flashed through Hiccup. Viggo wasn’t bloodied or bruised. Unlike Hiccup, his clothes were not soiled with dirt or Flyer’s blood. It wasn’t right.

Hiccup exhaled.

That wasn’t fair. Viggo had fought in the mud with the rest of them plenty of times. Viggo just…wasn’t the kind of man to rush into situations. He fought with his mind, not his muscles. And although Hiccup was not particularly muscular, he was light on his feet and the only thing quicker than his trigger finger was his intellect. It was a dangerous skill set that Viggo had come to rely on. Somewhere, over the years, Hiccup had moved from skinny burden to Viggo’s right-hand man. Viggo entrusted him to ensure his plans were carried out successfully. That’s why he was the one in the line of fire. Because Viggo trusted him to make it out unburned.

Hiccup unrolled his bedroll and settled across from Viggo.

“It’s not my fault that some old man stole my camping spot.”

Viggo gave a short laugh at Hiccup’s jab. “Like minds and whatnot, my boy.”

Hiccup hummed a response and set to work on removing his boot, then his jacket, and finally, his prosthetic. Unlocking the latches, the metal base slid off first. Then, he pulled the sweat and blood-soaked sock from his stump. Setting the pieces beside him, Hiccup began to slowly massage the painful knots that had taken root in his remaining calf muscles.

“Heather was shot.”

“I saw,” Viggo said. “I also saw you rush to her defense. I trust she is safe?”

“As safe as one is with Snotlout. I had him take her back to camp for medical care.”

Instead of lecturing Hiccup on the importance of field medicine or criticizing him for potentially allowing the Flyers to find their hideout as Hiccup expected, Viggo praised him.

“It was very brave of you to turn back for her.”

“She would have done it for me.” Hiccup replied.

“Yes, I’m sure she would. You’ve managed to inspire loyalty amongst outlaws. A difficult task, my boy.”

“We’re family.” Hiccup defended.

“Nonetheless, you did well. I knew I could put my faith in you.”

“I just did what needed to be done.” Hiccup said, shrugging off the compliment. Robbing and killing innocent men were not activities that Hiccup took pride in. The boy rubbed his hands over a particularly sore knot and sucked in air through his teeth.

“Does it hurt?”

“My leg?” Hiccup frowned, wondering how much to tell the man. If he were being honest, his entire body felt like it had been hit by that train. His leg often hurt him after a day of riding and robbing, but the pain in his head and ribs exasperated everything. But he couldn’t tell Viggo about it. Not when Viggo counted on him and needed him to be at his side to protect and encourage the gang. He couldn’t have Viggo seeing him as weak or a burden on the gang.

“It’s nothing. I just…landed wrong when I jumped the train. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Hiccup, you look like shit. And you’ve never been a particularly good liar.”

“Blame my teacher.” Hiccup snarked, but he supposed Viggo had a point. His hands were still black from his topple in the coal box, and he figured his face was an ugly mixture of black soot, blue and yellow bruises, and red blood. “Besides, “ he started, “We can’t all stay on the hill ‘running point’”.

Easing the pain enough to ignore the dull throbbing, Hiccup reattached his prosthetic. Typically, he would never sleep in the uncomfortable contraption. But here, in the wild with Flyers breathing down his neck, he couldn’t afford to sacrifice security for comfort. He made to stand, Toothless still needed to be rubbed down and someone needed to take the first watch.

Viggo raised a hand to stop him.

“Sleep, son,” Viggo said. “It’s true that you took the brunt of tonight’s excitement while I was merely an overseer. I can take first watch.”

“No, no.” Hiccup grunted, rising to his knees, “Toothless’s leg will be hurting too. I need to check on him.”

“I will tend to your horse. Rest.”

Viggo’s voice was uncharacteristically soft and Hiccup’s bones were heavy, so he accepted the offer with little resistance. Using his jacket as a pillow, Hiccup curled toward the dying embers of the fire. Viggo had watched over him for over a decade, and he trusted Viggo to keep watch over them now. Here, in the mouth of the dragon and under Viggo’s eye, Hiccup slept.


	3. All Roads Lead to Basheem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how a chapter about nothing ended up being so long, but enjoy this transition chapter!
> 
> Wilderwestking on tumblr if you want to say hello! :)

When Hiccup awoke the sun was low in the West and hunger clawed at his stomach. Groggy and stiff, he stretched his body to its full length before sitting up to peer across the campfire. A rabbit roasted over the flames, oils and fats dripping from the meat and causing a pleasant crackle to fill the air. Hiccup’s mouth watered from the smell, but he passed over the rabbit for the coffee pot that sat nearby. Across from him, Viggo was making short work of a second rabbit. Raised as a trapper, Viggo’s hands moved in quick, fluid motions to effortlessly deskin the animal.

“I was wondering if you would wake up,” Viggo said.

“I had a long night.” Hiccup said yawning and pouring the last of the coffee into a tin mug. Lifting the mug to his lips, he tentatively tasted the brew. Over-roasted and stale, the coffee had likely been sitting since early morning. Grimacing, he swished the liquid in his mouth before swallowing. The heat pooled in his stomach and warmed his bones from the inside out, and for that, he was willing to excuse the taste. “Have any patrols passed through?”

“Oh, yes. A few.” Viggo answered, piercing the now-skinned carcass with a stake. Setting the meat over the fire to roast, he turned his attention to Hiccup. “I killed a patrolman while hunting. He was sending word to Governor Haddock.”

Hiccup’s ears burned with shame at the mention of his father, but he kept his face blank. “What did the note say?”

“Details of the robbery and requests for aid. The train is stuck in the twin’s landslide. Earned each of us a $5,000 bounty.”

“Bounties are nothing new.” Hiccup mumbled, eyeing the cooked rabbit and considering the various prices on his head across the Archipelago. “Think I could turn myself in for the money?”

“Oh, the times I thought about ransoming you back to your father.” Viggo reminisced. “If only. He was offering quite the sum for information on you.”

“Viggo.”

“Yes, yes.” He said, waiving Hiccup’s warning away. “Eat. I forgot how petulant you become when you’re hungry.”

Hiccup grabbed the first rabbit from the fire, and careful to avoid burning himself on the oils, bit into the tender flesh. Minutes passed in tense silence, Hiccup focused solely on his breakfast. Once finished, he rubbed his hands down his pants to rid them of grease and spoke, “We need to get back to Raven Point. Krogan. Will start to wonder why Governor Haddock hasn’t responded to his message, and he’ll send more patrols.”

“We’ll head out at dark. There’s less chance of being seen, and with luck, we should make the trip by noon.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Governor Stoick Haddock of Berk was a good man. A loyal public servant, he had devoted much of life to his people. But walking down the main road of Berk, his boots stained by ash and his eyes weary from the sight of burned buildings, he felt like a failure. More than a failure, he was a disgrace to his office and his people. Loved by his people, moments of insecurity and demoralization were few and far between for Stoick, making each blow hit harder than the last. Until Viggo and his Night Fury had attacked Berk, there had only been two times in his long life where had felt such dejection.

The first was when he had failed Valka as a husband.

Berk had been a new town. Only a few, hastily constructed buildings lined the city square, but it drew the attention of outlaws, nonetheless. Razed in the night by Drago Bludvist and his ilk, the screams of Berk’s people had filled the air. First, they burned the jail, freeing members of their gang that Stoick had scheduled to swing. In revenge, the men moved through the streets, setting fire to homes and businesses. Burning and looting, Bludvist’s men left nothing but ash in their wake.

His home had been the last to burn. Rushing into the inferno, Stoick had managed to save his newborn son. But with a crying child in one hand, and a bullet-less gun in the other, Stoick was powerless to stop Drago’s thugs from stealing his Valka. Tied to the back of a retreating Bludvist’s horse, Stoick would have traded his life for hers a thousand times over.

The second was when Stoick had failed Hiccup as a father.

Growing up, Hiccup had always been smaller and weaker than the other children. Born two months early, many believed he wouldn’t live through that first, long night. But Stoick didn’t listen to the midwives’ naysaying. He knew his son would grow to be the strongest of them all. And with that belief, Stoick watched as Hiccup grew from sickly infant to curious child to rebellious teenager. Stoick had tried to protect him, to raise him as a man of the people—a public servant, like himself. Stoick was governor, after all. And one day, he had hoped that Hiccup would want to take his place and serve the people of Berk. But Hiccup had been more interested in horses than high society and hunting for trolls over tariffs or taxes. Stoick knew he was hard on the boy, perhaps harder than he should have been, but it was for his own good. One day, when Hiccup had abandoned his silly ideas of exploration for proper goals of public service, he would have thanked him. But Hiccup never got that chance, as, at the age of fourteen, he had disappeared.

Believing Hiccup to have been injured or lost while out exploring, Stoick searched the surrounding land for days. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. No body was recovered, and no ransom letter every delivered, and so, with time, Stoick had to come to terms with the loss of his only son. Those moments had fundamentally changed Stoick. Broken down, it had been up to Berk to slowly rebuild the pieces. But now, Berk was too burnt to rebuild the pieces, so Stoick had to stay stoic, even as he felt like breaking. Because a Governor felt no pain. Not when there was work to be done.

On the corner of the street, Sheriff Hofferson was directing workers and overseeing construction.  Nearly Stoick’s height and with a blonde beard befitting a Viking rather than a lawman, he was easy to see over the crowd of workers.

“How goes the construction efforts, Einar?” Stoick called, closing the space between them. Gripping forearms, Sheriff Hofferson smiled pleasantly at Stoick.

“Slowly, but it's good progress. At this rate, we will finish before winter sets in.”

“And materials? Do the workers have everything they need?”

“We are running low on nails and lumber, and Gobber will need to sharpen the woodworkers’ axes soon,” Einar reported.

At the end of the street, a cloud of dust was turning the corner. Just ahead of the cloud, a blonde-haired girl was racing toward them.

“Speaking of axes,” Stoick said, gesturing toward the girl.

✺ ✺ ✺

Raven Point was a welcomed sight for Hiccup. The ride to the camp had been relatively smooth, and the pair had made the journey before the morning chill had faded. Hiccup was happy to see that even in their absence, the camp was bustling with life. At the very center, he could see Mrs. Ack bent over the community pot of stew. Beside her, Gustav and Snotlout were eagerly pushing and shoving at each other to peek over her shoulder into the pot. The twins were sitting at a table, playing a game that consisted of stabbing a knife between their fingers, and Hiccup could see other members of the camp who were resting or attending to daily chores.

Stepping down from Toothless, Hiccup unlatched the buckles that kept the black leather saddle in place. Setting the riding equipment to the side, he brushed through the horse’s coat before leading him to the grazing field where the other horses rested. With Toothless seen to, Hiccup had one other task before he could settle into his tent.

Bathed in the cool shade of the cove’s back wall, Fishleg’s tent was alive with activity. As the gang’s foremost expert on botany, Fishlegs often served as the primary medical official. Pushing past the thick canvas, Hiccup could see Heather resting peacefully on a cot, her chest and shoulder wrapped tightly in bandages. Fishlegs sat beside her, his nose in a book on the local flora. Sven sat a few steps away, cleaning a wound on his upper arm. Hiccup, stepping past the man, cleared his throat for Fishleg’s attention.

“How’s she holding up, ‘Legs?”

The larger man looked up from his book, clearly happy to see Hiccup and motioned for him to sit. “She’ll be okay after she rests for a week or two. The bullet hit her muscle, but it had a clean exit. It could have been a lot worse.”

Hiccup took the seat across from Fishlegs, “I’m glad she’ll make a full recovery. I was worried about her.”

“Thank you, Hiccup.”

“For what?”

“Snotlout told me what you did for her,” Fishlegs said. “How you risked your life to get her to safety.”

“She would have done the same for me. Or for Snotlout—maybe. Any of us would.” Hiccup said, shrugging his shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” Fishlegs asked, his eyes set on the yellowing bruises that lined Hiccup’s jaw. “You look pretty beaten up.”

“Did Snotlout tell you about the men he saved me from?”

“I can’t believe he took out seven men to save you!”

“That’s because it was three, but he did save me. Not before they beat me, though.”

“I can give you some ginseng! It’s a local plant that grows in the area and it has healing capabilities. You can chew it or brew it into tea or—”

“No, I’m fine, ‘Legs.” Hiccup said, standing up. “I think a few days without any excitement will be enough for me. Let me know when she wakes up, yeah?”

“Will do,” Fishlegs called to Hiccup’s retreating form.

With Toothless clean and grazing and Heather safe, Hiccup figured the camp could get along without him for a few hours.

✺ ✺ ✺

“Dad! Governor Haddock!” Astrid shouted from atop Stormfly. Galloping toward them at full speed, Astrid waived a letter above her head as she dodged wagons and terrified Berkians. The horse came to a stop feet away from Einar and Stoick, tossing her head in greeting. Dropping from the saddle, Astrid pushed the letter toward them, “There’s been an attack out near Thor’s Canyon!”

“An attack?” Einar questioned, taking the letter from his daughter and scanning the message.

“Outlaws bombed a train as it passed through the canyon two nights ago. The passengers are still trapped!”

“Why am I only now learning of this?” Stoick asked.

“The letter just arrived. I brought it to you immediately, sir.” Astrid said.

Stoick, knowing Astrid was being honest, turned to Einar. “What is the damage?”

Sighing, Astrid’s father passed the letter to Stoick. “The entire canyon has collapsed. Director Krogran has asked for aid in digging the train out.”

Stoick was silent for a beat, then he exhaled in frustration. “We’re already worn thin with the reconstruction efforts.”

“We can’t not help them,” Astrid interjected.

“Of course not, Astrid,” Stoick said in a softer tone. “We will send men to help the passengers.”

“Viggo and his Night Fury are getting bolder,” Einar said.

“Yes, “Stoick started, “First they burn down the state capitol and now they are openly engaging in acts of terrorism. It’s a declaration of war.”

“We need to find them!” Astrid said, beating her fist against the flat of her hand. “Their attacks have been concentrated in between Berk and Basheem, meaning their base has to be in the area. Stormfly and I could lead a team to sc—”

“Absolutely not,” Einar said, cutting her off. “The Grimborns are ruthless terrorists. I don’t want you getting mixed up with them.”

Astrid frowned at her father but knew better than to press the issue.

“I will send word to Director Krogan in Basheem. Berk will give aid to help excavate the collapsed canyon and find the Grimborns.”

“I can go.” Astrid volunteered. “Everyone is spread thin enough with Berk being rebuilt and now the canyon…Besides, Stormfly is faster than horse this side of Helheim.” Beside her, Stormfly whinnied her agreement.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Stoick mused. He had always had a soft spot for the girl. Bold, with a  strong love for Berk and its people, she was everything Stoick once thought Hiccup would be.

Einar shot Stoick a look of pure betrayal. “Fine. But you will ride to Basheem and return immediately. No detours or scouting missions. Odin only knows what the Grimborns would do to a girl like you.”

“Odin only knows what a girl like me would do to them.” Astrid countered, climbing back into Stormfly’s saddle. “I’ll pack for the trip. Governor Haddock, you will draft the letter?”

“Aye, lass,” Stoick said, chuckling at the girl’s bravado. “I’ll have it ready for you.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Hiccup’s tent was the second largest in camp after Viggo’s. But unlike Viggo’s tent, Hiccup’s living space was actually quite small, just a cot, a table with a water bowl, mirror, and toiletries, and a trunk to store his clothing. The rest of his allotted space was taken up by his make-shift forge. His workbench, material piles, and tool shelves took up the remainder of his tent. Outside, away from the flammable canvas, a forge-oven and a whetstone sat. After the gang had found Raven Point, Hiccup’s first priority was building his forge. From horseshoes to bullets to his own leg, Hiccup acted as the gang’s blacksmith. Currently, there was no fire burning in the oven, and Hiccup was thankful, as the absence of fire allowed for the cool mid-morning breeze to fill the tent. Settling into his cot and tugging his hat down to hide his eyes, Hiccup attempted to rest. Just past the peace of his tent, Hiccup could hear the bickering of the twins’, Mrs. Ack scolding Gustav, and the other daily noises that existed inside a camp of two dozen people. But, hidden as he was, Hiccup was able to tune out most noises. Moments like these were what Hiccup lived for. The camp was safe and happy and for once, Hiccup felt like he didn’t need to worry.

“Young Master Hiccup!” Johann shouted, throwing the canvas flaps of Hiccup’s tent behind him as he entered. His peaceful reverie broken, Hiccup peeked out from beneath his hat.

“Yes, Johann?”

“Have I ever told you the story of the time I crossed the Scauldron Sea to reach the famed Southern Markets?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve mentioned it. Why? It is relevant to something?”

“Viggo has me heading into Basheem to visit an old friend. Those twins of yours found several gold bars and Viggo wants them fenced before Grimmel realizes they’re missing. There is also the matter of camp supplies.”

“Have you asked Snotlout? He loves to shop.”

“Indeed I have, Master Hiccup. Unfortunately, Snotlout was wounded in his daring rescue of Miss Heather and needs his rest.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. Snotlout was fine, and likely laughing at Hiccup at this very moment.

“Think of the adventures you and I will have!” Johann added.

“Okay, okay.” Hiccup relented. “Just let me change out of my riding clothes.”

“Excellent!” Johann said. “I will ready the cart.”

“The cart?”

“For the supplies, Master Hiccup! It takes a lot for this camp to run, you know.”

Hiccup ushered Johann from his tent and changed out of his black riding leather into less conspicuous clothing. Then, grabbing his satchel, he headed to the horse field.

Toothless nickered in greeting at his rider, trotting up and sniffing along Hiccup’s pockets for treats.

“Greedy horse,” Hiccup muttered, giving Toothless a sugar cube from his satchel and pat on the neck. Taking the reins, Hiccup led Toothless to the wagon where Johann was eagerly waiting.

Merchant, Johann’s brown Saddler, was already strapped into the harnesses. Seeing what was going to happen, Toothless  _ harrumphed _ his displeasure and stomped his front hooves.

“You’ll live, Big Baby Boo.” Hiccup said as he strapped his horse into the yoke. Then, leaning up to the horse’s ear, he whispered, “Be grateful you’re not the one who has to listen to Johann’s stories all day.”

Toothless whinnied in what Hiccup took to be mocking laughter, and Hiccup climbed into the wagon beside Johann. Johann, grinning wide, clapped Hiccup’s shoulder. “Adventure awaits us, Master Hiccup!”


	4. A Brief Encounter

“—Four of my men had died in the night. Frozen solid, their eyes stared at something only they could see, Master Hiccup. And after five days without food, the men and I came to the devastating decision to ea—”

“Aaand we’re here!” Hiccup said, cutting off Johann’s fifth story of the short trip. Maneuvering Toothless and Merchant to park parallel to the general store, Hiccup pulled the wagon brake and rested his elbows on his knees. Johann blinked owlishly at him.

“Yes, well, perhaps we should save the climax for another time.” He mumbled, stepping down from the wagon and patting Merchant’s flank. He smoothed the frizz from his beard and looked to Hiccup. “I will give the shopkeeper our supply list and then visit our _friend._ Watch the wagon, Master Hiccup.”

Humming in agreement, Hiccup watched as Johann disappeared into the general store. Minutes later, stock boys were beginning to fill the wagon with crates filled with canned fruits and vegetables.

Stepping down from the wagon, Hiccup put a hand on Toothless’s side. “Bud, you’re in charge while I’m gone, okay?” The horse whinnied, then shook the sweat and dirt of the journey from his coat.

Basheem was a mid-size livestock town that acted as a restocking destination for weary travelers heading west. With a constant stream of strangers passing through the town, nobody paid two more any mind as they melted into the crowded streets filled with wagons and pedestrians.

The blacksmith’s forge was located at the end of the street, near the horse stables. As Hiccup approached, the familiar clink of a hammer against metal grew louder. Entering the forge, the man behind the anvil was larger than Hiccup by a head, with a thick black mustache. He was whistling a tune to himself as he molded the frame of a wagon wheel. Seeing Hiccup, the man lowered his hammer and waived him over.

“Howdy, Partner. What can I do for ya?”

“I need to restock my supplies.” Hiccup said. “I need a few sheets of your thinnest steel, a few rods as well.” Hiccup eyed the blacksmith’s shelves where tools, weapons, and horse tack all hung on display. “Oh, and some quality leather. Elk? No, moose if you have it. Oh! And four… no, five cans of lamp gel, please.”

Typically, Hiccup would cure his own leather, but with the excitement of the past few months, he hadn’t found a spare moment to go through the tedious process. Basheem’s smith’s work seemed to be quality enough, and Hiccup could make do with store-bought leather for now.

“You a blacksmith, boy?” The man asked eyebrow raised as he gathered Hiccup’s requested items.

“Yes, sir.” Hiccup said proudly. “I’m traveling with a group of trappers, and I make all the horseshoes, nails, bullets, and anything else they need.”

“Are ye any good?”

Hiccup shrugged, “I make do, sir.”

“Well, I’m always lookin’ for an extra pair of skilled hands if ya need the money, boy.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hiccup said with a  smile. “I appreciate the offer.”

And he did. Hiccup, as a young boy, had spent countless hours in Berk’s forge. What had begun as a way to keep Hiccup out of trouble while his father worked had turned into a beloved hobby and a useful skill. When he had first left home, he had considered finding an apprenticeship and living off the trade. But, fourteen and skinny as he was, people saw him as nothing more than a beggar.

Maybe now, at twenty-four, with his skills improved considerably, he could be seen as something more than a beggar or a thief. He had considered leaving the gang before, especially after the Berk Massacre. He was intelligent, and he had a trade. Life within the law would be an easy transition for him. But he always thought about his friends-turned-family. He couldn’t leave them behind. Not until he knew they were provided for.

And he couldn’t leave Viggo’s side. Not when Viggo had rescued him from starvation and taught him how to survive.

Hiccup paid for his supplies, and gathering them in his arms, returned to the wagon. With the supplies from the general store packed away, Hiccup was able to load his smithing supplies and cover the back of the wagon with a tarp to protect the food from flies.

Then, figuring himself to be a free man in Johann’s absence, Hiccup decided to conduct reconnaissance. With Basheem being the closest town to their camp, any rumor about their whereabouts could be dangerous for the gang.

The Sheriff’s office was quiet when Hiccup entered. The deputy sat at his desk, but with no prisoners in the cells, there was little for him to do aside from paperwork. Hiccup tipped his hat to the man, but he paid him little attention. Walking over to the far wall, Hiccup examined the posters pinned to a board. Fortunately, the wall was mostly covered in posters of petty criminals. However, two posters hung in the center, drawing Hiccup’s attention.

Viggo “The Vicious” Grimborn

$25,000

Wanted Dead or Alive

Wanted for Murder, Theft, and Crimes Against the Archipelago.

Hiccup’s fingers thumbed the edge of the poster, Viggo’s inky black eyes staring through him. A perfect image of the man, Hiccup ripped the poster down and tucked it away in his satchel. From the corner of his eye, he checked to see that the deputy was still unbothered by his actions. Seeing no stirring, Hiccup turned his attention back toward the wanted board. Beside the empty space that Viggo’s poster once filled, a stranger and a reflection stared back at him.

Night Fury

$50,000

Extremely Dangerous. Kill on Sight.

Wanted for Murder, Arson, Theft, Assault with a Deadly Weapon, and other Crimes Against the Archipelago.

Although the nome de guerre was his, the face staring back at him was not. Wanted posters were never able to accurately portray Hiccup’s likeness, as he went to great lengths to preserve his identity. No one outside the gang knew his real name, and few enemies ever saw beneath the black bandana and lived to tell. The outlaw that stared back at Hiccup was stocky, with short, dark hair and the beginnings of a goatee. He frowned.

More and more wanted posters were portraying him as a younger version of Viggo. He missed the days when the posters were blank, ominous descriptions such as “Size: Unknown” filling the page. Now, too many believed Night Fury to be the bastard son of Viggo Grimborn. Maybe he was.

Behind him, the door opened, bathing the room in sunlight. Hiccup turned his head to see the new caller, only to have his blood turn to ice. Director Krogan Flyers was walking toward him. Hiccup turned his eyes forward, pretending to mull over the bounty posters. His heart pounded in his chest, and his fingers itched to feel the comforting weight of his Scholfields. After examining his wanted poster for an appropriate amount of time, he pulled it down and tucked it into his bag. The action drew the agent’s attention.

“You fancy yourself a bounty hunter, boy?” Krogan asked. He was close enough to Hiccup that he could see the stitching of his leather vest and smell the aftershave the man wore. Hiccup was reminded of the letter that sat buried in his satchel. Krogan was working for Grimmel to track him down. To execute him. Hiccup hoped Krogan couldn’t hear the thudding of his heart.

“No, sir.” Hiccup said, patting his left leg. Krogan’s eye traveled down Hiccup’s lanky frame, settling on the metal prosthetic with a  calculating eye. “But my Pa and brother were blessed by Magne, so they do the huntin’ when we need some spare change. They sent me to look for a job or two.”

“And you chose Grimborn and his Night Fury?” Krogan asked, raising an eyebrow. “They will need more than Magne’s blessing if they go after those terrorists.”

“I have faith in ‘em, sir. They’ve been bounty huntin’ a reeeal long time. We’re makin’ our way West off the rewards.” Hiccup lied smoothly, hoping Krogan couldn’t see through his accent. “I heard they blew up a train out near Thor’s Canyon?”

“Yes,” Krogan said, clasping his hands behind his back. “Killed quite a few of my men. Many of the passengers are still trapped.”

“Well, with luck, maybe my Pa will bring them in for you!” Hiccup said. “I best be getting’ back to him, sir.”

Hiccup, tipping his hat to the man and calming his racing heart, turned toward the door to leave, only to be knocked to the ground.

“I’m Fi—” Hiccup’s words were lost in his throat, as standing above him was the girl that had haunted his dreams for the last decade. Astrid Hofferson. Beautiful, frightening, Astrid Hofferson in all her brashness, was peering down at him. Her golden hair was braided over her shoulder, and it fell forward, dangling so close to Hiccup that he could almost reach out and stroke it. Astrid was holding a hand out for him to take, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed as she watched him gawk at her.

The ten years apart had been kind to Astrid. She was no longer the young girl that had tormented Hiccup for not appreciating the importance of taxes or for not being strong enough to lift her during dance lessons. She was tall and lithe, but Hiccup knew there was muscle hidden beneath the white of her blouse. Hesitantly, he took her hand, eyeing the blue embroidery on the cuff of her shirt.

 _Oh, Gods,_ It matched her eyes.

Her eyes, filled with annoyance, watched him critically as he hoisted him up. “You should be more careful.”

“Me?” Hiccup gaped. “Y-You’re the one who came charging in here!”

“Well, I…”Astrid frowned, an embarrassed blush creeping up her neck. Then, doubling down, she thrust Hiccup’s hat toward him. “I have important business in here. It’s urgent.”

“Then I won’t keep you from it, Miss.” Hiccup said, taking the hat from her and exiting the Sheriff’s Office. As soon as he was out of her sight, he exhaled, slumping against one of the building’s support beams. He didn’t know if his heart was beating from Krogan or Astrid or a confused combination of the two, but he could feel each panicked thud in his fingers, and he could hear it echoing in his head.

✺ ✺ ✺

“My, that was quite an entrance, Miss. . .” Krogan said, trailing off. Behind him, the deputy was watching her, trying to place where he recognized her face.

“Hofferson,” Astrid said, adjusting her shirt and stepping forward. “Astrid Hofferson. I’m Sheriff Einar’s daughter.”

“Yes, of Berk?” Krogan questioned.

“How is Einar?” The deputy asked.

“He’s well, sir. Busy with reconstruction efforts, but as fearless as ever.” Astrid said, and pulling the letter from governor Haddock from her pack, held it out for Krogan. “Governor Haddock is sending a group of forty men to help with excavation efforts. He wants to send more, but with half of Berk still under repair, we’re spread too thin.”

“Any help is appreciated, Miss Hofferson. Sit. I will draft a response for you to take to him.”

Astrid took the chair across from Krogan and watched as he read Stoick’s letter.

“Do you have any leads on the Grimborns?” Astrid asked.

“A few. Viggo is traveling with quite the entourage. He must be in the area, as it would be extremely difficult to transport so many people in and out without being noticed.”

“Viggo would be a fool to stay in the area!” the deputy interjected. “He’s too smart to stay this close to the scene of the crime.”

“And that is where you are wrong, friend,” Krogan said, not bothering to look up from the letter.

“His attacks have been concentrated between Berk and Basheem, so they have to be in the surrounding area.” Astrid supplied.

“Correct. Viggo fancies himself to be clever. Everything is a game of Maces and Talons to him. He believes that hiding under my nose puts him one step ahead. It does not.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Hiccup sat on the wagon, nursing his third cigarette of the day, and anxiously waiting for Johann to reappear. Tapping his foot, his eyes moved from the Sheriff’s Office where both Astrid and Krogan were, to the street where men and women hustled by—Johann never amongst them. Across the street from the general store stood a saloon, and Hiccup considered joining the work-weary men who were trickling into the building for a drink.

Leaning back against the wagon’s backboard, he groaned. “I just don’t get it, bud. What is Astrid doing in Basheem? Of all places! Oh, Thor, what if she recognized me?”

Toothless, supportive, but growing tired of Hiccup’s rambling, whinnied in the pause of Hiccup’s speech.

“Yeah, but what if she’s working _with_ Krogan? Her dad is Berk’s Sheriff, it would make sense! What if she tries to find the gang? What if she’s hunting me? She always wanted to be a bounty hunter!” He wagged his finger for emphasis, remembering the games of cop and robber they had played as little kids. He ran a hand through his tangled hair and sighed _if only she knew. . ._

Astrid.

Hiccup had spent many nights by the fire, dreaming of her hair and her eyes and the life they could have had if Hiccup hadn’t been so scrawny and weak and useless. Nearly ten years had passed, and the mere sight of her made him a lovesick fool.

His eyes traveled back to the Sheriff’s Office, settling on Stormfly. Hitched on a post outside the building, her tail swished lazily in the afternoon heat. Hiccup remembered Stormfly well. A blue and gold spotted fox trotter, she was likely the only horse that could give Toothless a real challenge.

Sweeping his gaze across the street—still not seeing Johann’s head amongst the crowd—his eyes settled on the saloon again. Rag-Time piano could be heard drifting from the open windows when the lull of the street died down. Men were laughing and shouting, enjoying drinks and company after a hard day of work. Hiccup flicked his cigarette into the dirt, thoroughly wishing he had never agreed to go on this ‘adventure’.

He could have—should have—stayed in his cot. He would have never been faced with a ghost from his past, he wouldn’t be waiting on a stiff wagon in the late summer heat, and he certainly wouldn’t be constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure that a man who wanted him dead more than anything else, wasn’t closing in on him.

From the saloon, Hiccup heard shouting and then a gunshot rang out. Hiccup’s muscles coiled, ready to spring into action if needed, but from the saloon’s door, two drunken men sauntered out, followed by an entourage of screaming and cheering men and women. Swaying with each step, they were slurring curses at one another and waving their pistols in the air.

“Idiots,” Hiccup muttered under his breath. Egged on by the cheers and whoops of the saloon’s customers, the men agreed to the terms of a duel. Then, wobbly, they turned on their heels and begun counting their steps. With each step, people were shouting out bets and words of encouragement. None of Basheem seemed to be bothered with talking the men down.

But by the fifth step, the man furthest from Hiccup had already turned around to face his opponent. Taking a moment to aim, the man fired two shots from his gun, the first landing in the dirt, but the second, hitting its target in the center of the other man’s back.

The crowd gasped in disbelief of the dishonorable display, a few women screaming for help. Hiccup itched to leave, but as he looked through the growing crowd, Johann was still nowhere to be found.

 _Damn him._ Hiccup thought bitterly.

Up the street, the doors of the Sheriff’s Office burst open, the deputy, Krogan, and Astrid all rushing out into the street.

Hiccup could see Astrid had her hand over her holster, ready to fire if needed. But Krogan waived her down, and casually firing three bullets into the air, stilled the crowd. Even the drunken fool knew to keep quiet, as watched the government agent walking forward, the deputy in tow.

“What is going on here?”

“Jus’ a duel, sir! That sack of horse shit” He motioned to the man bleeding out on the street, “called me a coward! I ain’t no coward.”

“Yet you shot him in the back.”

The man nodded proudly.

Astrid kneeled beside the dying man, but even from his wagon perch, Hiccup knew that shot had been fatal.

Krogan, unbothered by the dying man, kept his eyes on the drunkard. “Are you aware that dueling is illegal in this state?”

The man’s proud grin fell into a confused frown. “Well, no..er—But I was jus’ defenin’ my honor!”

“And now you will have the chance to defend your honor before a judge. Deputy, arrest this man.” Krogan said, holstering his gun and turning on his heel to leave the deputy and Astrid to clean the mess. Hiccup watched him retreat until he was out of sight.

From the corner of his eye, Hiccup could see a man climbing up onto the wagon. His first impulse was to pull his gun and shoot, in fear that Krogan had somehow doubled back around and snuck up on him. But it was only Johann, who placed a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder.

“I think we should be getting home, Master Hiccup.”

Hiccup glanced back to Astrid, still on her knees, trying to help the dying man. The cuffs of her shirt now stained with blood. For once, Hiccup couldn’t agree more.

✺ ✺ ✺

Reaching Raven Point, Hiccup left Johann to unload the camp’s supplies. Unlatching Toothless and Merchant, he gave them both a quick rub down before releasing them to graze with the other horses. Gathering his smithing supplies and heading toward his tent, he was surprised to see the camp almost entirely deserted. Anyone not on guard duty had seemed to simply disappear.

Dropping his supplies off in his tent, Hiccup headed toward the edge of the cove, where a single torch lit a cluster of people who had gathered around a tree. From where he was, Hiccup could see Snotlout holding the torch, and he could hear the distant mumblings of an argument.

“We should just kill him!” Hamish urged. “Slit his throat and dump him down river.”

“No!” Ruffnut cried above the crowd, “I love him! We can’t kill him!”

“Well, he can’t stay here!” Snotlout said, his voice thick with jealousy. “I say we _Kccch!”_ And Hiccup could see him draw a line across his throat.

“If we’re gonna kill him, we need to do it before Hiccup gets back.” Sven reasoned.

Hearing enough, Hiccup loudly cleared his throat. A third of the circle jumped at the sound, and seeing Hiccup, instantly parted to let him to the front of the circle.

“And just who are you killing before I get back?”


	5. Under Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad to finally post a new chapter of this. I know it was only like a week and a half, but I enjoy this story so much haha. 
> 
> Hope you all like dialogue, because there is a lot in this chapter!

Stepping forward, Hiccup could see a man lit by the flicker of Snotlout’s torch. Broad, and dressed in a variety of animal furs, the man glared at him with dark eyes. Long, dark hair fell down the man’s shoulders in strings, and he boasted a black eye.

“He’s a Bludvist!” Snotlout shouted, gesturing wildly with his torch toward the man. The captive shrunk away from the fire as far as his ropes would allow, but waiting on the other side was an over-eager Ruffnut who stroked the man’s cheek. Feeling fire the safer choice, he leaned back toward Snotlout.

“It’s unfortunately true, H. We caught him tracking us down by the river,” Tuffnut said.

“Tracking us?” Hiccup questioned. Pulling the gag from the stranger’s mouth, Hiccup crossed his arms across his chest and leveled his gaze. “And why were you doing that?”

“I wasn’t.” The stranger said, his voice thick from disuse. “I was tracking a stag.”

“This is pretty far south for Drago. Why would you hunt these woods?”

“I told you, I was just hunting. I’m not one of Drago’s.”

Hiccup raised an eyebrow and pulling the fur collar of the stranger’s vest down, revealed a still-fresh brand. A Monstrous Nightmare dragon with a sword through its head, the insignia of Drago Bludvist, stood out against the white of the man’s chest. “You look like one of his.”

“Fine.” The stranger admitted, “But I’m not  _ willingly _ one of his men. His men came to my town, said they needed hands and were willing to pay good money. I’m the best trapper this side of LukTuk, so I went with them. I didn’t know they worked for Drago until I failed to meet a quota and they were warming the coals!”

“So why don’t you run away? Just go home?” Hiccup asked, although he already knew the answer. He had seen and heard of Drago Bludvist’s cruelty his entire life.

“People don’t leave Bludvist.” The man said coldly.

“Just shoot ‘im, Hiccup!” Sven shouted, exasperated at the interrogation. There were a few murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

Ignoring them, Hiccup continued. “Where is Drago? He has to be nearby if you were tracking game for him this far south.”

The man didn’t respond, his lips pressed in a hard line.

“Do you have a name?” Hiccup tried.

“Eret…Eret Eretson.”

“Well, Eret, all of these people behind me want to see you dead—”

“I don’t!” Ruffnut interrupted.

“—So if you don’t want me to indulge them, or worse, her, you should be more cooperative.”

Eret tilted his chin upward, giving Hiccup a view of the man’s tattoos. Three blue lines streaked down his chin like warpaint. “If you don’t kill me, he will. I’d rather take my chances with you,  _ Chief.” _

“Listen, Eret, I am your best—if not only—shot of getting out of this camp alive. I’m typically a patient man, but I’ve had an extremely exhausting day. So, for everyone’s sake, just tell me what I need to know.”

There was a pause as if Eret was considering what to say, but then, the man drew back and spit into Hiccup’s face. Behind him, the gang collectively gasped.

“Bleagh!” Hiccup complained, reeling back and using the bandana to wipe away the spit. Blinking through wet eyelashes, Hiccup could see the man smirking back at him.

“You’re just going to let him disrespect you like that?” Hamish called.

“Yeah, slit his throat!” Savage said. There were more cheers of agreement from the crowd.

“No, no, no.” Hiccup groaned. “We’re not slitting his throat. No matter how much I want to.” Then, pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned to address the crowd. “Where is Viggo? Why is he not dealing with this?” Hiccup said gesturing toward Eret.

“V-Man’s in his tent,” Tuffnut answered. “Said not to disturb him and then he scowled in that scary way he does. You know the look?”

“I’m familiar.” Hiccup said. “Nobody touches him until I get back. That includes you, Ruffnut.”

Ruffnut groaned, and mimicking Hiccup sarcastically, stepped away from Eret.

✺ ✺ ✺

Viggo’s tent was situated in the middle of the camp. The largest tent out of the caravan, it was built from a mixture of canvas and animals skins stitched together in a hodgepodge. Approaching the lip of the tent, Hiccup could see shadows illuminated from Viggo’s lamp. The silhouettes told Hiccup that Viggo was at his desk, hunched over a pile of papers.

 

Preparing himself for the glare Tuffnut had warned of, Hiccup let himself into the tent. With a Bludvist tied to a tree and the gang calling for a lynching, Hiccup was too exhausted to deal with matters on his own.

“I told you not to dis—OH, Hiccup, son, you’re back,” Viggo said smiling at him.

“Yeah, we got back not too long ago…You, uh, you know there’s a man tied to a tree, right?”

“I’ve been made aware, yes.”

“Then why aren’t you dealing with him? The gang is close to rioting!”

“Hiccup, Hiccup,” Viggo soothed, motioning for Hiccup to sit. “I told the men to get whatever information they could from him and then dispose of the body.”

Unsurprisingly, the answer did little to calm Hiccup’s frazzled nerves. He perched himself on the edge of Viggo’s desk, briefly glancing down at the papers Viggo had been consumed by before looking up at his leader. “We can’t just kill him. That makes us no better than Drago.”

Viggo’s eyes flashed with a dangerous mix of anger and annoyance. Then, as quickly as it had come, the look of anger was replaced with a look of empathy. “It’s him or us, son.”

“It doesn’t have to be, though. He’s practically Drago’s prisoner! He could be useful to us. What if he can help us end Drago?”

“I highly doubt a low-level grunt like that would have any information that could destroy Drago’s vast crime empire, Hiccup.”

Hiccup bit his lip. That was probably far, it wasn’t like Viggo went around telling the twins the ins-and-outs of the Gang’s specifics. “This doesn’t help us keep a low profile.” Hiccup finally said.

“What it does, is it allows us to rid the world of one more enemy who sooner sees us swing than survive.”

“Don’t you think killing one of his men will make him retaliate?” Hiccup said. Drago was known for his vengeance. Cold and ruthless, there were few who had lived through his tirades.

“Perhaps,” Viggo said shrugging, “But when playing Maces and Talons you must be willing to take a risk.”

“This isn’t a game, Viggo! We have Drago bearing down on us from the North. Governor Haddock to the West. Krogan is  _ in _ Basheem, Viggo! Grimmel is funding his men to hunt us down!”

Viggo froze, and Hiccup instantly realized he had said something wrong. Hiccup stood up from the desk, ready to make a retreat.

“How do you know that?” Viggo asked slowly.

“I—I saw it in a letter on Grimmel’s train. And I saw Krogan in Basheem.” Hiccup stammered.

“You’ve known this intel for days and you haven’t disclosed it?”

“It slipped my mind! I’ve been busy! We’ve been on the run, and every time I try to rest someone sends me on an errand!” Hiccup said.

“We’re surrounded on all sides, and you want to spare Drago’s men? Hiccup, you are too pure too innocent too—”

“Sensible?” Hiccup offered.

“Too willing to play peacekeeper at the expense of your friends’ lives.” Viggo finished.

“Viggo, we don’t need any more people wanting us dead. The more we kill and rob, the easier it is for enemies to track us down.”

Straightening his jacket, Viggo stood up from his desk. “Hiccup, my boy, you have a good head on your shoulders. But you’re young. Too young to understand the intricacies of keeping this gang alive. I am going to put this Bludvist issue to rest.”

Stepping out into the night air, Hiccup could see the crowd was still gathered around Eret. Their combined arguing, loud but not understandable, could be heard even from Viggo’s tent.

Hiccup chased after Viggo, keeping at the man’s heels. Reaching out, Hiccup grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. “Don’t do this, Viggo, please. It’ll only make things harder for us. Grimmel wants us dead. Drago wants us dead. This just paints a bigger targ—”

“Silence, Hiccup.”

“Why won’t you listen to me?!”

“No! No more! You will fall in line and do as I say!” Viggo ripped his arm from Hiccup’s grasp. “I have kept this gang alive for twenty years and I will continue to do so!”

Dejected, Hiccup stepped back.

The crowd parted for Viggo, Hamish and Sven whispering to one another on how the enemy would finally be dealt with properly. Eret met Viggo’s eyes and tilted his chin up in a show of bravado. Hiccup could tell there was fear hidden beneath the surface as the captive’s eyes went from Viggo’s to Hiccup’s.

Viggo pressed the barrel of his pistol into Eret’s forehead, and cocking the gun, smiled casually. “Eret, was it? Tell me, how many men does Drago control now?”

“Too many.”

“Hmm, that is true, but I am looking for something more quantitative.”

Eret was quiet.

Frowning, Viggo smacked his pistol across the man’s head. Blood leaking from his nose, Eret held his head up. “I don’t know. I’ve never even seen Drago.”

Viggo pressed the gun harder against the man’s skull. “Then I suppose you’re of no interest to me.”

“Viggo, he’s an innocent!” Hiccup shouted.

“I love him!” Ruffnut cried.

“Shut up, Haddock!” Hamish shouted.

“Yes, Hiccup, you would be wise to stay quiet.” Viggo admonished.

Lowering his weapon, Viggo turned to face his gang. “I am tired of the insubordination. Leave me to deal with this problem.”

Much of the gang returned to their tents, eager to avoid his wrath, and willing to let him make the decisions. Remaining, Hiccup stared Viggo down with cold eyes. Behind him, the twins and Snotlout remained.

Moving his glare between Hiccup and his riders to Eret, Viggo frowned. Then, pulling his arm back, he struck Eret across the head with his pistol once more. Unconscious, the man’s head slunk forward.

“He will tell me something of use, or he will die,” Viggo said plainly. “Alert me if he wakes up and  _ don’t _ waste camp supplies on him.”

Holstering his weapon, Viggo returned to the security of his tent, shooting Hiccup a glare as he went.

Exhausted to the bone, Hiccup sighed and slunk to the ground. From this spot, he looked up at Eret, noticing the blood that soaking into his fur vest. “Snot, will you grab cotton from Fish’s tent? The least we can do is clean him up.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll grab cotton for the dangerous Bludvist.” Snotlout said, but he turned to do as Hiccup had asked. As he left, Hiccup could hear Snotlout muttering comments about the situation.

Ruffnut was stroking the man’s hair, pushing it out of his face and ogling his exposed biceps. “I’ve always liked my men bloodied.” She cooed. “Makes them tougher.”

Hiccup and Tuffnut shared a disgusted look.

“Ruff, get away from him. Go run a perimeter check.”

But!”

“Ruffnut, please?” Hiccup said.

“Ugh, _ FINE.” _ She groaned, but like Snotlout, she too disappeared into the darkness.

Hiccup sat on the ground, one knee pulled to his chest and the other stretched out. Tuffnut sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I think you did the right thing, Hiccy.”

“Thank you, Tuff.” Hiccup said quietly. HE hoped Tuffnut was right. He hoped beyond hope that Eret was an innocent trapper pulled into Drago’s ranks and that he wasn’t playing a long con. If his naivety and pacifism caused one of his friends to be killed, he would never forgive himself. But, looking up at the man and seeing the brand glare back at him, Hiccup knew he had made the right decision. With time, Eret would grow to trust them and Hel, maybe they would grow to trust hi—

Hiccup’s head swung to look at Tuffnut, “Hiccy?”

✺ ✺ ✺

Basheem’s two-floor hotel was far from inviting. Filled with travelers, it was loud, dirty, and had little to boast in terms of comfort. But, it had a bed and a washtub, and that was all Astrid really needed. Elbow-deep in a bucket of pink water, she was beginning to realize that the blood was not going to come out of her blouse and that it was, in fact, ruined.

Sighing, she sat back, pulling her arms from the water and wiping them on her pants. The man had bled out for several, agonizing minutes before his eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he had laid silent. Astrid had seen people die before. Hel, she had even shot a few outlaws herself. But it was different to watch a man writhe beneath you, powerless to help.

Wringing the water from her blouse, she chucked it in the corner of the room, and with a sigh, sat on her bed. Staring out the window, she could barely see the stars for the flare from the town’s streetlights.

She would have preferred sleeping beneath the stars with Stormfly, but Krogan had insisted that she stay in the hotel. So now, Stormfly was stabled a few buildings down, likely tricking the stable hands into extra pats and sugar cubes, while Astrid sat alone in a barren room. In the morning, she would prepare rations for the people stuck on the train: food, water, and maybe even fresh clothes if she could gather any from the townspeople. Then, she would return to Berk to deliver Krogan’s message to Governor Haddock.

With luck, the men would be able to do away with their shared threat. Berk’s construction was almost finished, but Astrid could still see the ruins of her beloved town after Viggo and his Night Fury had set it ablaze.

She frowned to herself, thinking about what kind of men could deal such damage with no regard to the lives of others. Mindlessly unbraiding her hair, she ran her fingers through the strands and let it fall around her shoulders. Astrid wanted to do more. She wanted to  _ be _ more. Sleeping safely in a warm bed while innocent people slept hungry and cold on the floor of a trapped train made her stomach turn. The idea that Viggo and his gang were still out there, going without retribution made her even sicker.

Krogan had given her hope, though. By confirming her suspicions that the Grimborn gang was hiding in the mountains and promising justice would be swift and severe for the outlaws, he had vindicated every rabbit-hole and conspiracy Astrid had followed in pursuit of the gang.

Letting her eyes fall shut, she fell asleep thinking of the Grimborn Gang swinging at the end of her father’s ropes. 


	6. Racing Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost DOUBLE the length of usual chapters, so I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented or given kudos for the story. Your support means the world to me!<3

When Hiccup awoke it was far earlier than he would have liked, but outside the quiet of his tent, he could hear the morning chatter of Raven Point. Sitting up, Hiccup took in his surroundings. The warmth of his furs was calling to him, but he forced himself to get up, sliding his feet on the cold ground.

Striding over to the corner of his tent, Hiccup washed his face, savoring the feeling of cold water on his skin. Then, changing into the day’s work clothes, he rejoined the gang. Figuring tensions would be high from the previous night, Hiccup intended to get a quick breakfast and then head out on Toothless. However, as Hiccup approached the campfire, he was greeted with waves and smiles.

Heather and Fishlegs were sitting together, enjoying breakfast. Heather looked well, although her arm was wrapped up in a sling and Hiccup could see bandages poking out from beneath her shirt. Gustav sat at their feet, smiling up at Hiccup with bright eyes. Already asleep by the time Hiccup had returned to camp, Gustav had likely missed most of the excitement.

“Quite the night, Mr. Haddock.” Mrs. Ack said, pushing a mug of coffee toward Hiccup.

Gratefully taking the mug, he took a deep sip from the brew.

“It, uh, it was something.” Hiccup replied, glancing over to where Eret was restrained. The man was awake, and as he caught Hiccup’s glance, he acknowledged him with a weary nod of his head. Eret’s hair had been braided and pulled up into a high bun at the crown of his head and his wounds had been dressed. At his feet, Tuffnut was asleep, back leaned against the trunk of the tree, his favorite chicken in his lap.

Had he told Tuffnut to keep guard?

He remembered Snotlout and himself bandaging Eret’s wounds before practically crawling to his cot, but everything else was unremembered save for Astrid. Dreams of her hair and her eyes and her fiery spirit haunted him. Several times, Hiccup had awoken in the night and in the hazy in-between of sleep and awake, had imagined himself the young son of Berk’s Governor once more. Not an outlaw, but the kind of man Astrid would look twice at.

But the morning light had chased those thoughts away. Fantasies, Hiccup told himself. Men like him didn’t end up with women like her.

Turning his glance back to the small group, he gauged their expressions. “You all think I did the right thing, right?”

Gustav nodded eagerly, “He seems cool! Besides, we need more people ever since Dagur and Ryker went away.”

Heather’s eyes flashed coldly in Gustav’s direction at the mention of her brother, but the boy was too busy tucking into his plate of scrambled eggs to notice. She turned her gray eyes on Hiccup.

“I don’t think we should risk the entire camp’s safety for one man. It isn’t worth it.”

“But that’s what we do, Heather,” Fishlegs said softly. “We’re supposed to stand for something more than just thieving and robbing. We help those who need help.”

“It’s about freedom, lass.” Mrs. Ack added. “After all, we brought you into the fold.”

“And I vouched for you then as I am vouching for him now,” Hiccup added.

Heather sulked, but she didn’t speak again, knowing that she had lost the argument. A thief and a prostitute, Heather hadn’t received the warmest welcome into the gang. Many thought she was working for the Flyers, attempting to seduce the men and lead them to the hangman’s noose.

Others simply didn’t like the idea of another woman in camp, thinking her just another mouth to feed. But Hiccup had stood up for her, saying she deserved a chance to prove herself. And she had. Now, she was as much a member of the Grimborn Gang as any of them.

“You have a good heart, Hiccup.” Mrs. Ack said, breaking the silence and fixing Hiccup a plate of eggs. “You’re growing into a good leader, and I know you’ll do what’s best for the gang. You always have.”

“I don’t want to be the leader.” Hiccup muttered, sounding like an insolent child. Too many lives were at stake. Too many people looking up for him for advice, it was the very reason he had run away and joined the gang in the first place.

Taking the plate from Mrs. Ack, Hiccup ate his share of the eggs, allowing the conversation to turn to lighter topics. Joining in occasionally with a comment or a snarky response, Hiccup mostly kept to his thoughts, staring into the low-burning fire and finishing his coffee.

“Hiccup!” Viggo called, pulling him from his thoughts. He was standing outside his tent, talking with Johann, a lighted cigar simmering in his hand. “Come here.”

Groaning, just loud enough for those around the fire to hear, Hiccup swallowed the rest of his coffee and pushed up from his seat. Striding over to Viggo, he ignored the laughter at his back.

“Is something wrong?” He asked as he approached.

“Quite the contrary, Hiccup. Saddle our horses! Your friend says he was tracking a stag. If he has truly traveled so far south for a stag, it must be quite the beast.”

“You want to go hunting?”

“Why not?” Viggo said, placing a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder, “It’s been ages since we’ve tracked together.”

Instinctively, Hiccup glanced down at his prosthetic. Shrugging, he offered Viggo a timid smile. “I suppose it could be fun. Toothless hasn’t had a good run that didn’t involve Flyers in ages. And I’m sure Mrs. Ack could use more meat for her stews.”

✺ ✺ ✺

The ride to Thor’s Canyon had been relatively easy, even with the mountain of supplies Astrid had packed onto Stormfly’s back. The horse bore the load without complaint, seeming happy to be back in the open air with Astrid after a night in the stables.

Peering down into the canyon, Astrid pulled her hat from her head, letting it fall down her back and catch around the neck by the thin, twine rope. Below her, she could see the train. Teams of men and horses were working diligently to remove the dirt and debris from the swallowed cars. Others worked to pull the cars that had been cleared of debris back onto the tracks. To the side, the last of the passengers were being loaded into wagons to be taken to the nearest train station.

Directing Stormfly down the steep slope, Astrid introduced herself to the men in charge and set to work.

Passing out food, water, and clothing to the workers and passengers, Astrid was excited to see the progress the men had made. Until the canyon could be cleared, and the train moved, nothing could pass through from the West or East. The shortage of cargo trains had dealt serious damage to the markets in both the East and West.

Handing out the last of her supplies to a young mother and her two children, Astrid was able to sit down with them and relax. The children had excitedly taken the lunches, devouring them so quickly the mother had to chid them, reminding them to chew before swallowing.

The lady had told her about her experiences from that night. Astrid had learned how Viggo had planted two of his outlaws—a boy and a girl with dark hair and darker hearts—on the train with the rest of the passengers. Then, when the train shuddered to a halt, the pair waived guns around, demanding valuables.

Stewing, Astrid couldn’t imagine what kind of person could hold a gun to a mother’s head while her children cried.

Many of the other passengers told similar stories, although the characters changed. Through their testimonies, Astrid learned that a pair of blonde-haired twins had set off the explosion that caved in the canyon, not Night Fury as Director Krogan believed.

The most interesting of details came from a train guard,  who had caught a glimpse of the elusive Night Fury. Dressed in all black, he had allegedly ridden a horse that was faster than lightning and solid black save for a deep, red scar on its hind leg.

Astrid thanked each person for the new bits of information, tucking it away in her mind and promising herself that she would write a report for Krogan when she returned to Berk.

Having done her part to help remedy the Grimborns' wreckage, she climbed back into Stormfly’s saddle and begun the climb out of the canyon.

✺ ✺ ✺

The forest surrounding the cove was filled with wildlife, but Viggo was uninterested. Passing over elk, rabbits, and even a rather large moose, Viggo was headed somewhere with a goal in mind. Hiccup followed behind dutifully, happy to be away from the eyes of camp and in the calm of nature. Viggo led him down the mountain, toward a riverbed that flowed into a much larger lake at the base of the mountain.

“This is where the twins captured your trapper,” Viggo stated, dismounting from Skrill. “Look around for any tracks of an animal worthy of our hunt.”

Rolling his eyes, Hiccup hummed his affirmation and began searching around the riverbed for signs. Although he was able to find trees chewed on by beavers, the droppings from rabbits, and even the fur from what may have been a wandering black bear, a legendary stag, he did not see.

Giving up, Hiccup sat on a rock at the edge of the riverbed, skimming his fingers across the surface of the freezing water. Beside him, Toothless nosed around in the weeds, snuffling at the plants and nuzzling his wet nose against Hiccup’s side for attention.

Absent-mindedly, Hiccup watched as Viggo examined a set of tracks that appeared to lead away from the riverbed.

“Stay with the horses,” Viggo said, grabbing his shotgun from Skrill’s saddle and disappearing into the thicket in pursuit of an unknown animal.

Hiccup didn’t protest. Leaning back, the late summer sun shown through the trees and fought off the morning’s chill. From the treetops, Hiccup could hear birds calling to each other He closed his eyes, taking it all in and breathing deeply.

Viggo had been gone for around an hour when Hiccup began to wonder what had become of his mentor. However, not too long later, the peace was ruined by the blast of a gun.

Then, another hour of silence passed before Viggo reappeared from the bushes, shotgun slung over his shoulder, but no game to be seen.

“No luck?” Hiccup asked

“Oh, I found the beast. Magnificent crown of antlers. Nearly as many hands high as Toothless.”

“Where is it? I heard you shoot at it.” Hiccup asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I shot the beast, but he ran. Hardly seemed bothered to have a bullet in his flank.”

“Did you not follow it?” Hiccup said, frowning. He thought of the poor animal, bleeding to death in a thicket, in pain.

“I did, but I found something of interest. Come with me.”

Groaning internally, Hiccup grabbed the horse’s reins and leading them, followed Viggo. Whenever Viggo wanted to show him something, it always ended with Hiccup being shot at.

Following the man to a cliff’s edge, Hiccup watched as Viggo climbed down the ledge and lowered himself onto his stomach. Hiccup, following suit, slithered forward on his stomach. Then, holding out a hand for binoculars, asked: “What is it that I’m supposed to be seeing?”

“There’s a camp to the East.”

“Well, we don’t have a claim on the land.” Hiccup reasoned. “Besides, we’re miles from the cove. I’m sure it’s someone just passing through.”

Looking through the binoculars, it took Hiccup a moment to find the object of Viggo’s focus. Zooming in on a tiny camp in the distance, Hiccup could make out a campfire, a person with their back turned to them appeared to be cooking. Beside the camper, a blue and gold fox trotter stood.

Hiccup nearly dropped the Thor-damned binoculars. Viggo eyed him curiously but shaking it off, Hiccup refocused. Astrid was resting at the fire, likely taking a break to cook a quick meal before continuing to Berk.

She had changed out of the blood-stained clothes Hiccup had last seen her in, now wearing varying shades of blue. Her face was hidden by her leather hat, but Hiccup could imagine her face was scrunched up in frustration; she had never been a good cook.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Hiccup wondered what to tell Viggo.

Astrid _had_ been in Basheem for a specific reason. She was working alongside Krogan to eradicate the Grimborn Gang. She was a threat to every person Hiccup had sworn to protect. Hiccup knew all of this, but he chose to bite his lip and lie to Viggo.

“It’s just a girl. Someone passing through.” He offered the binoculars back to him.

“With an armory?” Viggo asked, pushing the binoculars back toward Hiccup. Focusing the lenses, he could see Astrid was equipped with a decent supply of weapons. A rifle was clipped on the side of Stormfly’s saddle, and the girl herself was wearing a buscadero that hung lower on her hips. Beside her, was a tool he had once crafted for her years ago.

Hiccup laughed a sharp noise that surprised even himself. Then, catching the eye of Viggo, he sobered up. “She has an axe. She’s just a Viking. Nothing more.”

Of course, Hiccup knew Astrid was skilled with the weapon. Even as teens she had dedicated countless hours to perfecting the craft.

“She could be a bounty hunter,” Viggo said.

“Who hunts with an axe? This isn’t the 1100s.”

“Regardless, she could pose a threat to the camp. If she were to discover us…” Viggo trailed off.

“So what, you want me to run her off?”

“Get rid of her. I don’t care how you do it.”

Hiccup groaned, externally this time, and gave Viggo a hard look. “You’re not seriously suggesting I kill her, right?”

“I don’t care how you handle her so long as she cannot find the cove.” Standing up, Viggo dusted the dirt from his clothes and whistled for his horse. “Just take care of it and meet me near Freja’s Falls. I’m going to double around and see if I can retrieve that stag.”

Sighing, Hiccup trained his eyes on the thin wisp of smoke that rose from Astrid’s campfire. There was no world where he could kill her, even if she was gunning for him. Running his hands down his face, he called for Toothless. The horse, responding almost instantly, leaned his neck down the ledge to peer at Hiccup.

“What do we do, bud?” He asked. “We can’t just scare her off, she’s Astrid Hofferson for Thor’s sake!”

Toothless huffed, seeming to consider the problem at hand, and motioned for Hiccup to get on his back with a toss of his head.

Trusting his horse, Hiccup climbed up the ledge and into the saddle.

✺ ✺ ✺

Thundering down the road, Hiccup could see Astrid’s camp in the not-so-far distance. Fearing being sighted, Hiccup pulled on Toothless’s reins, urging him to slow. Defiantly, the horse pushed on.

“You said you had a plan!” Hiccup shouted in his horse’s ear.

Flicking Hiccup on the cheek with his ear, Toothless ignored him, pushing forward to a target only he knew.

Tucked off the road in a clearing, Astrid’s camp was drawing nearer. Then, passing by the camp, Toothless began to buck and rear. Hiccup, surprised by the sudden actions of his usually trusted steed, was thrown from the saddle with a pained squawk. Toothless, and Hiccup’s left leg, disappeared into the distance.

Laying on the ground, Hiccup stared up at the sky, a pained wheeze escaping his lips. Air knocked from his lungs and leg stolen, Hiccup was in no position to move, even when he heard Astrid’s shrill cry of “Who’s there?”.

Unable to do anything but wrap his arms around his middle, he tried to catch his breath.

Then, blonde hair was in his vision, blue eyes glaring down at him. Experiencing the worst kind of deja vu, Hiccup tried to smile up at her. She did not return the gesture, although her eyes widened in a way that told him she recognized him from Basheem.

“Are you following me?” Astrid accused, her axe held loosely in one hand.

“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Hiccup coughed out.

“Are you following me?” She asked again, the blade of her axe moving to his throat.

“No, no!” Hiccup said quickly, carefully pushing the blade away from his neck. “I was riding by when my bastard of a horse bucked me.”

She frowned, looking him over. Assessing him to be of little threat to her, she lowered her axe. “Are you hurt? Can you get up?”

“I’m all right.” A pause. “Literally. My other leg is still in the stirrup.”

Astrid whistled for her horse, and through the clearing, Stormfly peeked her head at Hiccup, snuffling along his chest. Climbing into the saddle, Astrid leaned down and offered a hand. “Well, let’s go get him.”

“You’ll help me?” He asked, tentatively taking her hand.

“It’s the least I can do, considering yesterday.” She said, yanking him up and into the saddle behind her. “Besides, I can’t just leave you here. There are outlaws in these mountains.”

Hiccup tensed but playing it off as pain from his fall, relaxed. His hands searched for a spot to grip the saddle, careful not to touch Astrid. “Outlaws, you say?”

She nodded, spurring Stormfly into a gallop in the direction of Toothless’s retreating form. “Grimborns. Director Flyers of the Department of Espionage and Security believes them to be hiding out in the mountains.”

“Oh.” Hiccup whispered. “I’m glad you found me then and not them, Miss.”

“Astrid.” She said, turning her head to look back at him. “And you are?”

“Uh…Warthington. But my brothers call me Warty.”

“That’s…quite the name,” Astrid said slowly, then something clicked in her head, her eyes flashing with the thought. “Wait, aren’t your brothers bounty hunters? Krogan mentioned you wanted to go after Night Fury?”

“Well, yes…but I’m not.” Hiccup said quickly.

“Then shouldn’t you know about the outlaws in the mountain?”

“Well, my pa had a hunch, but he didn’t know for certain.” Hiccup lied. Then, changing the conversation, pointed to the right. “That way, he turned down that path.”

Astrid leaned into the turn, rising up in the saddle as Stormfly took the turn with ease. Far ahead, Hiccup could see his horse galloping down the dirt road. “You’re going to have to speed up if you want to catch him.”

“Hold on then,” Astrid warned.

Hiccup looked down at the saddle, searching for a place to put his hands. Then, her hands were on his, pulling his arms around her middle, holding him to her waist. Hiccup began to loosen his grip, as though Astrid would burn him, but she pulled him back, chiding him and telling him to hold tight.

“Let’s go, girl! Catch up with him!” Astrid shouted, cracking Stormfly’s reins. The horse sped forward with a lunge, jolting Hiccup into Astrid’s back. Charging down the dirt path and gaining ground on the black Arabian, Stormfly accelerated to her full speed.

“Toothless, get back here!” Hiccup shouted. “Toothless, stop!”

“Warty and Toothless?” Astrid asked, rising in the saddle.

“Yeah, it’s a real colorful family.” Hiccup said, blushing and averting his eyes from Astrid’s backside.

The narrowing pathway opened into a meadow, Toothless not bothering to heed Hiccup’s calls or slow down. Stormfly, as diligent as she was quick, pursued the black stallion, managing to ride close enough to his flank that Hiccup felt he could jump between the horses. Hiccup lifted up in the saddle, using his good leg for stabilization.

“What are you doing?” Astrid shouted.

“Just hold her steady, I’m going to jump.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Probably,” Hiccup muttered, gripping Astrid’s shoulders for balance. Then, seeing his opportunity, flung himself forward onto Toothless’s back. Settling into the saddle and clipping his leg back on, he pulled Toothless to a stop. Begrudgingly, the horse obeyed.

“What’s gotten into you, bud?” Hiccup scolded.

If Toothless felt remorse, he didn’t show it. Instead, he stood patiently beside Stormfly, looking between Hiccup and Astrid.

“What startled him?” She asked, peering down at the horse, and offering him a hand to sniff. “He seems sweet enough.”

“Oh, he is.” Hiccup said, watching as Toothless nuzzled against her hand. “As long as you stay on his good side, at least.”

The two rode at a gentle gait, the horses stepping through tall grasses and purple wildflowers. Behind them, the mountain rose above them, green treetops turning to purple stone capped at the very top by white snow.

Astrid rode ahead of Toothless, giving Hiccup the opportunity to admire Astrid. Her hair was windswept from the pursuit, and now that she had a moment to collect herself, he caught her picking at the stray hairs. Her hat was hanging around her shoulders, blown off her head from the wind.

She was everything he remembered her to be. Strong and kind and selfless, Astrid Hofferson was everything Hiccup had wanted when he was younger.

As a boy, Astrid had viewed Hiccup as a worthless fishbone. Now, as a man, she viewed him as a cripple in need of her charity. He wasn’t sure which opinion he hated more.

She turned to look at him, her face flushed from the exertion of racing. “That Jump. . . Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I used to be quite the daredevil before I lost my leg.” Hiccup said, shrugging.

“It was impressive. Stormfly and I have a really close bond, but I don’t know if I would jump to her like that.” Astrid said, stroking the spotted neck of her horse.

“I just did what I thought I needed to. If I hadn’t, we might still be chasing him. He loves to run.”

“Maybe we can race one day.” Astrid offered, Stormfly perking up at the challenge.

“We could race right now?” Hiccup offered. “See those trees at the edge of the clearing? There and back?”

“You’re on!” Astrid shouted, spurring Stormfly forward with a laugh.

Eyes wide, Hiccup watched as Astrid surged forward. Then, realizing he was losing, he shouted for Toothless to chase.

The horse took to the challenge naturally, his hooves digging into the earth and propelling him and his rider onward. Easily, Toothless caught up to Stormfly.

Hiccup could see Astrid’s surprised look, and he smirked at her, tipping his hat as Toothless took the lead.

The horses rounded the tree, pushing into the final stretch of the race. Astrid and Stormfly were gaining ground, riding neck-and-neck with Toothless and Hiccup.

But in the end, Toothless was victorious. Astrid looked winded, and her pride a little hurt, but she smiled at Hiccup.

“That was fun, really.”

“Yeah, it was a good race.” Hiccup agreed, watching as Astrid pushed her hair behind her ears.

There was a pause that lengthened between them. Astrid, unsure of what to say, and Hiccup scared for the moment to end.

“I really should get back to my camp. I need to get back on the road.” Astrid finally said, turning Stormfly toward the mountain.

Hiccup swallowed the lump in his throat, flicking his tongue out to wet his dry lips. Hiccup knew what he was about to do was dangerous. He knew Toothless’s plan had been stupid and reckless. But none of that seemed to matter as he was facing the possibility of saying goodbye to Astrid.

“I’ll ride back with you. Make sure you get there safely.”

“You don’t have to do that, I’m fine on my own,” Astrid said.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, Miss. But I insist.” Hiccup said. He knew he was playing with fire. But a blacksmith at heart, Hiccup was used to being burned.  “After all, there are outlaws in these mountains.”


	7. A Life Long Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! I know it's been forever since this has been updated, but this chapter was an uphill battle. 
> 
> Now that it is out of the way, the plot is really going to start snowballing. 
> 
> If you've stuck with me this far, thank you! I hope it's worth it!

The return ride to Astrid’s camp was too short and too long all in one.

Keeping Stormfly to his right, Hiccup hung on every word of polite conversation Astrid offered him. Feeling more a lovesick fool by the second, he had to remind himself of his place with her, lest he allow his cover to slip away.

To him, she was the same spirited girl he had dreamed about by the late night campfire. The time apart had done nothing to sully the image he had of her. Now, she was no longer a girl, but the woman who lurked in the back of his mind, filling him with a lonesome yearning for a life long abandoned.

To her, he was a stranger on an open road in the wilderness. Nothing more than a man she owed a debt and since repaid. She would likely leave him soon, thinking that she would never cross his path again.

“Have you ever been to Berk?” Astrid asked.

“Once or twice,” Hiccup said, shrugging his shoulders as they bobbed in step with Toothless. “My Pa turned in a few bounties with the sheriff, but we never stayed for long.”

“That’s my father.”

“That makes sense….I saw how you rushed to help that man in Basheem yesterday.”

Astrid nodded, her proud smile turning to a frown. “That man died.”

“Bullet to the back typically does that.”

“I suppose…They’re going to hang the man who shot him.”

“Justice is found at the end of a rope,” Hiccup said, hoping his internal snark didn’t leech into the words.

Together, they rounded the bushes that led to Astrid’s camp. In the center, the fire had grown large, and dark, black smoke climbed toward the sky. Dismounting, she rushed to the campfire. Pulling the roasting stick from the flames, she stared at the charred carcass of a rabbit.

“There goes dinner,” She grumbled. She tossed the burnt stick across the camp and into the undergrowth.

“How far is Berk?” Hiccup asked.

“Only a days ride,” Astrid supplied, “But I haven’t had anything to eat since Basheem. Losing that race left me starving.”

Hiccup leaned over in his saddle, digging through Toothless’s saddlebags. “I should have something in here that you could have.”

“I couldn’t,” Astrid said, holding up her hand in refusal.

“I insist.” He said, pulling a tin of biscuits and a link of cured sausage from his pack. “It isn’t much, but it’ll hold you over until you make it home.” Hopping down from Toothless, he joined her by the fire.

Gratefully, she took the food and began portioning it out for the two of them to share. “What made your family want to be bounty hunters?” she asked, holding out a portion of the sausage for him to take.

Hiccup shrugged. Chewing his biscuit slowly, he thought on his alibi. “Well…we lost my Ma at an early age to rustlers. Pa wanted revenge, rightfully so, and after he got his revenge he decided he didn’t want the same thing to anybody else.”

 “I’m sorry,” Astrid said. She held out a flask toward Hiccup. “Berk has had a rough time with outlaws. A lot of families are going through what you went through.”

“I’ve seen the newspapers.” He grabbed the flask from her, his fingers brushing delicately against her own. He couldn’t meet her eyes, so he focused on the flask. Twisting the cap from the container, he tipped it back without checking the contents. Thick, honeyed mead met his lips and burned his throat. Wiping his lips, he passed the flask back to her. “Bludvists, right?”

“No, no. It’s the Grimborns giving us trouble. Bludvist and his ilk have stayed North for the past few years. Grimborn’s Night Fury, though…he’s almost destroyed the town.”

“One man couldn’t destroy a town on his own.”

“You haven’t encountered him then.” Astrid “Few months back, Night Fury set fire to the factory district. Dozens died in the fire…and Viggo and the rest of the gang used it as a distraction to rob the treasurers blind.”

“That has to be hard for you. I’m sorry,” Hiccup said, guilt striking at his heart like a viper. He bit into another biscuit to occupy himself.

“Yeah,” She sighed, tipping back her flask before offering it to him again. “But we’re doing better than others. We’ve almost rebuilt. We’ve buried the dead. We’re moving past it. I just…I can’t understand why they chose Berk? I understand we’re the biggest city this far West…but…how can someone be so evil they burn down a town and kill innocent children?”

Hiccup choked on the biscuit, his mouth suddenly dry. Coughing through the crumbs, he asked, “What are you talking about?”

Her hands balled into fists, angrily. “Viggo! He killed a five-year-old girl. Strangled her and left her for dead.”

_Viggo would never!_

Viggo, for as long as Hiccup had known him, had stood for freedom. He wasn’t a murderer or a petty thief. He was a man fighting to live a life free of society’s laws and greed. Sure, the gang killed those who needed killing, but he would never kill a child.

Hiccup’s mind reeled, but steeling his expression, he tipped the flask back, emptying the container of the mead. Replaying every moment of that day in his head, he knew Astrid had to be lying. It had to be an unfortunate coincidence that Berk blamed on Viggo. Hiccup had been by the man’s side every moment of that awful day. From the ride to the bank vaults to the…

Sheriff Hofferson had separated him. Chased away from his gang. Almost captured him. Almost killed him…

 _It was only a few minutes_ …Toothless had been able to lose the man and rejoin Viggo’s side. It wasn’t enough time for Viggo to kill a child. _Viggo wouldn’t kill a child._ Hiccup told himself firmly.

Viggo was a lot of things, and although a good man was not high on the list, he lived by a moral code.

“Warty?” Astrid asked. “You okay?”

Pulled from his thoughts, Hiccup looked at her. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine..that’s just…”

“Awful.” Astrid finished. “But he’s going to pay. Viggo and his Night Fury and all the outlaws that crawl in their shadows. I’m going to see to it.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your father is going to see to it.”

He pictured Stoick briefly. Vengeful and filled with righteous fury, Stoick was not a man to trifle with. Then, remembering it was Warty’s father Astrid had meant and not Hiccup’s, he pushed the image of the man from his mind.

“I hope so,” Hiccup offered.

Silence fell between the two, Astrid focused on finishing her meal and Hiccup too consumed in his thoughts to make conversation. Every ounce of energy was being funneled into resisting the urge to flee. Hiccup felt very much like a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

Finally, Astrid stored the remaining food and began packing away her belongings. Hiccup followed behind her, carrying the heavier packs and helping her secure them to Stormfly’s saddle.

Picking up her axe, he weighed it in his hand. When it was forged, he had to use both hands to lift the weapon. Now, he bounced it between his hands, feeling the weight shift from side to side.

“Careful with that.” Astrid chided, tucking her bedroll to the back of Stormfly’s saddle. “It’s sharp.”

“It needs to be rebalanced,” He said. He held it out to her.

Frowning, she grabbed the weapon from him. Securing it in the holster on Stormfly, she looked at him. “How could you tell?”

“I chop a lot of wood.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the same kind of axe. This is a weapon.”

“Where did it come from?”

“Berk. Berk’s best blacksmith made it for me many years ago.”

Hiccup blinked. Berk’s best blacksmith? He had been an apprentice…mediocre at best…

She stared him, judging his reaction. Her eyes moved from his face to the axe before settling on the prosthetic.

Her gaze made Hiccup uncomfortable for more reasons than he cared. Finally, she shook her head as though whatever thought in her mind wasn’t worth her time.

“I hate to leave so abruptly,” she said. “But I really need to get on the road. Berk is waiting, after all.”

“I understand.” Hiccup said, helping her up into the horse’s saddle.

She smiled down at him, pulling her hat to sit at the crown of her head to block the sun. “Thank you for the food today. And the race. I had fun.” She stretched out her hand in offering.

Hiccup whipped his hands down the front of his pants before grasping her hand. Shaking it firmly, he smiled. “Of course. It was wonderful meeting you, Astrid.”

She left, leaving him standing in the ghost of her campsite. Hiccup stared down at the hand she had grasped. The hand that fired his gun. The hand that had robbed and beaten and killed hundreds.

Looking away in disgust, he turned his eyes to Toothless. “Let’s go, bud. Viggo and I need to have a word.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Frejya’s Falls could be heard miles before they could be seen. The rapids tumbled over a cliff, plunging a hundred feet below and drowning out the forest with its roar. At its base, a large basin had formed a tranquil lake. A waterhole for the mountain’s diverse wildlife, Hiccup was hopeful of Viggo’s chances to catch the stag.

Rounding the corner though, Hiccup saw Viggo resting on the shore bank. Pant legs rolled up and his feet in the water, he held a fishing rod. Line cast to the center of the lake, he smoked a cigar. Smoke curled in tendrils, ash hanging on the tips of Viggo’s black hair.

As Hiccup approached, he raised a hand to catch the older man’s attention. Squatting down beside him, he grinned. “Viggo, I don’t think that’s how you catch deer.”

Viggo laughed softly, patting Hiccup on the shoulder as he rolled his pants leg and removed his boot to rest his foot in the water. “The stag evaded capture. For now. Let’s hope the fish are not as smart.”

“At least we know now that Eret was telling the truth,” Hiccup said, cupping his hands filling them with cool lake water. Splashing the back of his neck, Hiccup whipped the dirt from his neck and face.

“I suspect our Viking has been taken care of?” Viggo asked, ignoring his comment on Eret.

“She left, yeah. She was just passing through as I said. No trouble at all.”

“You’re terribly dirty for someone without trouble.”

Hiccup looked down at his clothing. The red of his tunic was stained brown from dust and his hands were muddy from the dust mixing in the water. “Toothless bucked me.”

Viggo’s eyes widened slightly. “My, that’s unusual. What caused it?”

He shrugged. “Something spooked him, but I couldn’t see it.”

“Was this before or after your race?” Viggo asked, smirking at Hiccup.

The boy’s face flushed bright red.

“Did you tell her who you were?”

“Of course not,” Hiccup said, leaning back on his hands. “I’ve been around long enough to know not to spill my life story for every pretty face. Ho—How did you even know?”

“I have my ways.”

“Viggo.” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes.

“I saw the race from the cliffside. The stag made me climb all the way to the top before deciding to disappear. Who was she?”

“No one. Just some girl that Toothless embarrassed me in front of.”

Feeling a tug on the end of his fishing rod, Viggo turned his attention back to the lake. Reeling in the fish, he held it up for Hiccup to view. “What do you think?”

Eyeing the bluegill, Hiccup watched it flop helplessly on the end of the hook. “Too small. Throw it back.”

“If you insist,” Viggo said, pulling the hook and returning the fish to the water.

Viggo cast the rod again and they fell into the easy silence that came with fishing. The older man attempted conversation, but Hiccup wasn’t with him.

His mind was scattered. It was with Astrid as she rode back to Berk. With Berk as it burned to the ground during the Massacre. With Viggo as Hiccup desperately retraced every step.

“Hiccup?” Viggo asked. “What’s bothering you?”

Hiccup jerked his head up quicker than he would have liked. The world jerked into place, but his vision settled on Viggo. Steady, resolute, Viggo. “I…I’ve just been thinking a lot recently.”

“The only thing more dangerous than a Haddock thinking is a Thorston thinking.”

Hiccup didn’t laugh at the joke, but he did force a half-smile for Viggo’s sake. Slowly, as though he was approaching a snake ready to strike, Hiccup spoke up. “Viggo…when Berk was burning…and I got separated..where did you go?”

“Why does that have you bothered?”

“I—I’ve just been thinking recently. Everything could have gone wrong. Everything _did_ go wrong. The sheriff separated us…divided us so that we were easier to kill.”

“We survived just fine, son.”

“Dagur didn’t. Ryker didn’t.”

Viggo tensed.

“Where did you go? How did you find me?”

“I took shelter in an empty building. Had skirl run the block.”

“An empty building?”

Viggo nodded. “From the top window, I could see the sheriff chasing you toward the factory district. I just followed the smoke.”

Hiccup exhaled. An empty building. Following the smoke. That was logical. Tactical. That was a plan Viggo would follow. He couldn’t have killed anyone who wasn’t trying to kill him first.

“You’re not the only one who thinks about that day, Hiccup. I think every morning on what I could have done to prevent the loss of our friends. Of my brother. But we can’t focus on the past, my boy. We have to look toward the future. I have to keep the rest of our family safe. _We_ have to keep them safe, yes?”

Hiccup nodded, wringing his hands together. He knew Viggo was stressed, even if he hid it well in front of the rest of their entourage. On the run with Flyers breathing down their necks and pushed further East than they had been in years, Hiccup tried to shoulder the burden alongside him. As Viggo’s de facto second-in-command, it only seemed right.

“You’ll figure it out, Viggo. You always do.” Hiccup encouraged. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking? Maybe we can work it out.”

Viggo hummed, nursing his cigar as he thought. “Johann brought me a newspaper with an interesting story in it.”

“Yeah? What did it say?”

“A circus is looking for their lost twins. Willing to pay a great deal for their return.”

Hiccup laughed, “No, seriously, Viggo. What did you find?”

“The Federal Treasury is transporting gold out West.”

“How much?”

“More than we could spend in ten lifetimes, my boy. Enough to leave the Archipelago and start a life free from the oppressive laws of man’s greed.”

“Is it coming on a train?”

“It is. Armored and with the army, I’d imagine.”

“So we rob a train.” Hiccup said, shrugging. “A…heavily armed train. But a train. We can do that.”

“We don’t need to.”

“Why not?”

“The train will be stopping at Fort Scauldron before heading west.”

“Great. So, we infiltrate an army fort and steal the gold. The train will be miles away before they realize it’s empty.”

“Their own hubris will make it easy for us. The army is prideful. They would never expect a group of outlaws to outsmart them.”

“Still sounds too easy.” Hiccup said.

“Nothing gets past you. Your father is overseeing the Western security details.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on his hands as he thought about possible plans.

“Johann will want us to play a role. Rescheduled army officers or a wayward train engineer.” Viggo said. “The man loves his theatrics.”

Hiccup laughed. “This sounds like one of the jobs we used to pull a long time ago. When it was just the four of us.”

“Those were the days.”

“It’s good, Viggo. Dangerous, but good. If we can refine the details, it will be a job worthy of our glory days.”

“Glory days? My boy, the glory days are yet to come.”

Hiccup smiled. “If you say so…I meant more when the gang was young. Before Ryker died and before Berk. When we killed less and fought for freedoms more.” Hiccup shrugged. Having spent the past ten years under Viggo’s eye, he had seen the man grow from youthful and spirited to old and cynical.

“You speak as though I am old. As though my days of outlawing are on the decline.”

Hiccup shrugged, smirking at the man.

“I will have you know I am just as spry as I was ten years ago when I found you half-starved and a head high.”

Oh, yeah?”

“In fact, let me prove it. Let’s race.”

“You want to race me?” Hiccup asked, raising an eyebrow. “And by extension, Toothless?”

Viggo stood from his spot, reeling in his rod and stowing it away. “Us veterans can still give you a run for your money.”

“Whatay say, bud?” Hiccup asked, turning to look at the horse. “Want to show these old timers how it’s done?”

Toothless stomped on the ground in excitement, snorting a challenge to Skrill.

Hiccup stood up quickly, splashing Viggo in the process. Dressing, he rushed toward Toothless. “Come on, Viggo! I’ve won one race today already.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Thundering down the path and kicking up dust, Hiccup was filled with the adrenaline of the race. Pushing Toothless to his full speed, the pair easily pulled into the lead. Turning his head, Hiccup looked behind him where Skirll and Viggo were attempting to gain ground. Laughing loudly, Hiccup called to them, “Should we have given you a head start?”

Viggo spurred Skrill faster, pushing the Turkoman to its limits. Although the horse was running at its highest speeds, Hiccup felt assured it would not be able to reach Toothless. “You lack style, Hiccup. You’ve always preferred speed to proper technique.”

“I _lack_ style?!” Hiccup said, abashed. Leaning down over Toothless’s neck, he smirked. “We can show them style. Right, bud?”

Toothless snorted in affirmation, tossing his head back. Toothless slowed his pace, allowing Skrill to saddle up beside him.

Grinning against the wind, Hiccup jumped up in his saddle, foot balancing on Toothless’s flank. Standing on the thundering horse, he held his arms out for balance. “How’s this for style, _old man_?”

Viggo frowned, worried momentarily that Hiccup would fall from the horse and break his neck or be crushed by Skrill’s hooves. But then, seeing the stability Hiccup had, he decided to use it to his advantage. Spurring Skrill forward, the horse took the lead for the first time. “Is this a race or a circus performance?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Hiccup asked. Still standing on the horse, Hiccup urged him to go faster. Toothless gained ground until they were once again riding alongside each other.

Viggo saw the smirk on Hiccup’s face, but he was too slow to evade what happened next.

Jumping from Toothless’s back to Skrill’s, Hiccup wobbled as he caught his balance. He plucked Viggo’s hat from his head, putting it over his own hat.

Beneath him, Skrill huffed in annoyance at the extra weight. A temperamental beast, he had never liked anyone but Viggo and his displeasure at a second rider was evident.

With his prize, Hiccup jumped back to Toothless. Landing in the saddle, he spurred him forward.

Toothless, hooves kicking up dust, accelerated, leaving Viggo and Skrill in the distance.

They raced for miles, Hiccup always slowing Toothless to allow Viggo ground, but quickening their pace up before the older man could take the lead.

Ahead of him, the cove’s entrance was growing closer. The race was coming to an end. Turning in his saddle, Hiccup could see the concentration on Viggo’s face as he drove Skrill forward. Cupping his hands over his mouth, Hiccup shouted, “You better not ride like this with Flyers after you!”

Toothless took the curve that led to the cove’s secret entrance with ease. Passing under tree branches and around boulders, Hiccup was sure they would win the race. Breaking through the clearing, Toothless skidded to a stop. Panting and red-faced with adrenaline, Hiccup hugged Toothless’s neck, offering praise.

After a few moments, Viggo entered the clearing, pulling Skrill to a stop.

“It was a good race, Viggo.” Hiccup congratulated as they stepped down from their horses.

Viggo wiped the sweat from his brow and held out a hand for his hat.

“To the victor goes to the spoils.” Hiccup smirked.

“Hiccup,” Viggo warned, though there was little malice in his face—a rare sight in these times.

“Fine, fine. But I get bragging rights. So does Toothless.” He said, begrudgingly handing the hat over.

Viggo fixed the hat atop his head. Then, looking at Hiccup with a  fond smile, he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I enjoyed today.” He paused, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“And what?” Hiccup asked, watching the older man closely.

“You’re like a son to me, Hiccup. Don’t forget that.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Rested after the long day, Hiccup made his way to Eret’s tree. Stepping forward, he unsheathed his hunting knife.

Eret’s dark eyes went wide, and he pulled away from Hiccup as he approached.

Bringing the knife down, Hiccup sawed through the rope, letting it fall to the ground around Eret’s feet. “We found your stag. Get out of here before Viggo’s mood changes.”

Eret took a step forward, stretching his limbs for the first time in days. He watched Hiccup carefully. “I can’t leave.”

“Why not? Take a horse and go. They’re in the field.”

“Drago will kill me. I have to stay with you now.”

“Absolutely not.” Hiccup said, crossing his arms. “Viggo will kill you.”

“I’m dead either way. And frankly, I like Drago less than I like you all. No offense.”

“None took.”

“Let me stay. As I said, I’m the best trapper this side of LukTuk. Let me work.”

Frowning, Hiccup relented. “Fine. But stay away from Viggo until he’s acclimated to you.”

Eret smiled, hope in his eyes for the time in days. He slapped Hiccup on the back in gratitude. “You’re a good man, Chief—”

“Hiccup. Stop calling me Chief.”

“You’re a good man, Hiccup.”


	8. Old Friends, New Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter took as long as it did! I've been so, so busy with life! Since the last chapter I moved, went to the CWS, and just didn't really have time to write. 
> 
> This chapter is really the start of the main plot arcs, so I'm super excited to get it thrown out there. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of it!

 

Eret’s integration into camp happened so seamlessly that there were days where Hiccup wondered how the gang managed to ever survive without him. Even now, while the rest of the gang slept in their tents, Hiccup could hear Eret preparing to leave for a hunt.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the early light of dawn filled Hiccup’s tent and he itched to crawl into his cot and rest. But unlike the rest of his companions who slept soundly, he rarely slept during the night these days.

The fear of Krogan and his Flyers was always on his mind. Every time he laid down in his bed, Astrid’s words filled his head. Krogan knew where they were; it would only be a matter of time before they were found.

Days ago, over a game of Maces&Talons, Hiccup had brought up the idea of moving their camp south, to the Bog. With the Bog’s thick swamps and dangerous reputation, they would be safe long enough for Viggo to get the money they needed. Then, they could move out west as they had planned.

But Viggo, defeating Hiccup’s Viking Chief and securing the game in his favor, had assured him that they were safe in Raven’s Point.

His words did little to calm Hiccup’s nerves. After all, Viggo hadn’t seen the wanted posters in Basheem. He hadn’t stood so close to Krogan that he could see the etchings on the man’s pistols. And Viggo certainly hadn’t sat next to Astrid Hofferson as she swore to see them hang! Viggo, for all his cunning and planning, simply didn’t have a grasp of the danger they were facing.

But Hiccup knew. And the image of Krogan executing his friends was enough to keep in his forge through the night.

Shifting his shoulders, he worked the soreness from his muscles before gripping his melting pot with forge-tongs and pulling it from the center of the flames. Inside the bowl, molten lead glowed, lighting the tent and warming Hiccup’s skin. Careful not to spill the scalding liquid, he poured it into bullet molds.

Setting his tools in water, the room was filled with the pleasant hiss of steam as he took a seat at his workbench. For now, all he could do was wait for the molds to harden. Later in the day, he would pack the molds into wax casings filled with gunpowder.

Looking from his desk to his cot and finding sleep a lost cause, he opened a drawer to pull out a bladeless sword hilt. Turning it over in his hands, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across a loose stitch of leather. Threading a needle, he pressed the tip into the thick leather beneath the loose stitch. Nimble fingers pulled and tucked the thread to tighten the sword’s lining.

Mid-backstitch, a shadow fell over him and he sat back, turning his head to see what had obscured his light. Eret, standing lazily in his doorway with a bow thrown over one shoulder and a quiver strapped to his belt, nodded at him.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Chief?”

“Probably,” Hiccup mumbled. “But I could say the same for you.”

Eret shook his head. “Now’s the best time of day for game.”

“Ah,” Hiccup said through a yawn. “I suppose I knew that…or I should have. Regardless, thank you for your hard work.”

Brushing off the praise, Eret took a step forward, leaning toward him to peer at the sword. “What is that?”

“It’s a sword.”

“It doesn’t have a bla—”

Pressing a button on the hilt, Hiccup grinned as the blade extended, two metal chevrons connecting the otherwise hollow sword. Tip centimeters from Eret’s nose, the man jumped back, raising a finger to push the tip away from his face. Pulling his hand back, Eret frowned as he rubbed a sticky gel on his jerkins.

“…It’s hollow?” Eret asked, recovering his composure. “And covered in kerosene?”

Standing up, Hiccup moved away from his workbench and Eret. Wide smirk plastered on his face, he flicked his thumb across the flint striker at the top of the hilt. Sparks met the kerosene gel and within seconds the sword had been consumed by fire. Excitedly, he lifted the weapon toward Eret.

He whistled. “Thor, that’s…you made that?”

Hiccup retracted the blade, the fire dying as its oxygen source depleted. Sitting down at his desk, he tucked the sword back into its drawer. “I did. Viggo says it’s just a parlor trick, though. He thinks I should spend my time making things of more importance.” He waived a hand toward the stacks of bullets, nails, and horseshoes he had made over the past few days.

“It _is_ a little impractical, perhaps,” Eret said, shifting his bow to the other shoulder. “But imagine what folks will say when they hear Night Fury has a flaming sword now.”

“It won’t be the standard ‘run for the hills’ I’ve come to appreciate, that’s for sure.”

“You know,” Eret started, “I wasn’t with Drago’s men for very long, but they talked about you a lot.”

Rolling his eyes, Hiccup spread a map across his desk. Then, indulging Eret, he glanced up. “And what did they say about the infamous outlaw of the night?”

“That you were a cold, cruel killer with no sense of remorse.”

“Oh.”

“But you’re not,” He added quickly. “You’re nothing like that. Hel, you’re nothing like your father either.”

Hiccup’s eyes shot up, meeting Eret’s with such fury that the man looked away, immediately knowing he had misspoken. Frantically, he held out his hands, attempting to soothe Hiccup. “I—I just meant that you’re not…you’re not like Viggo.”

“Viggo isn’t my father.”

“I’m sorry,” Eret rushed to say, “Drago’s men called you his bastard…I just thought….” He shrugged his shoulders, unable to find the words to say.

“Well, I’m not.”

“It was an honest mistake. I’m sorry.”

Hiccup huffed, scrunching his firsts up in frustration. But, knowing Eret didn’t know better and knowing Drago and Krogan both called him Viggo’s bastard, he sighed. “It’s fine, you couldn’t have known. But now you do.”  

An awkward silence strangled the air between them before Hiccup finally turned away to focus on his map. “You should go if you want to hunt anything before the sun is up.”

Nodding, Eret knew when to take his leave. “Right, sorry, Ch—Uh, Hiccup.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Eret returned before much of the camp had finished their morning chores. With a buck over one shoulder and a rabbit tied to his belt, he passed through the maze of tents, waving a bloody hand at those he saw. Seeing Eret cross the opening of his tent, Hiccup raised a hand in greeting, only to have Eret tentatively waive back before disappearing amongst the canvases.

Hiccup groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t Eret’s fault that he thought Viggo was his father. He knew that. Hel, just the other day he had spent the entire day in Viggo’s tent playing Maces&Talons and making jokes at Viggo’s expense. And Viggo _did_ call Hiccup ‘son’ more often than not. So, honestly, it was no surprise Eret had thought the two were blood relatives.

Shame settled in his stomach as he realized how rash he had been.

Pushing down his exhaustion, Hiccup cleaned himself up before leaving his tent in search of Eret.

By the camp’s fire, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and Heather sat, but beyond them, at the edge of the cove, Eret was beneath a tree, skinning his deer.

Making his way toward the trapper, Hiccup watched as the man skillfully sliced through the deer, pulling back the skin to clean and prepare the meat. At his sides, the twins watched eagerly.

Of the gang, the twins had accepted Eret the quickest, possibly quicker than even Hiccup himself had. Before the man had even been untied from his tree, the twins had adopted him into their circle.

Now, Ruffnut stood to his left. Holding his carving tools in one hand and his tunic and furs in the other, she offered her aid in exchange for the free show. To his right, Tuffnut was leaned against the tree, excitedly telling a story.

“Hey, Eret?” Hiccup called, cutting Tuffnut off mid-sentence. “Can we talk. Alone?”

Eret nodded. Elbow-deep in the deer’s stomach, his eyes didn’t stray from his work.

Hiccup waited for a moment, then looking between the twins, “Alone.”

Tuffnut gasped, raising a hand to his chest and looking offended. “Anything you can say in front of Eret you can say in front of my sister and me! After all, we are one gang, are we not?”

“Yeah!” Ruffnut agreed, her eyes glued to the man’s chest.

“ _Guys_.” Hiccup stressed.

“Fine, fine,” Ruffnut said. “But I’m keeping these.” She lifted the bundle of Eret’s clothes to show Hiccup before walking away.

As the pair disappeared into camp, Hiccup could hear them mumbling about the rise of tyrannical leaders within the gang’s political hierarchy.

Eret pulled his arms from the deer’s stomach, wiping his hands on a rag. “Is something wrong?”

Hiccup shuffled in place, rubbing his arm anxiously as he worked through the best words to use. “Yeah, I…uh, I wanted to apologize. I overreacted this morning and I’m sorry.”

Eret seemed to consider his words for a moment. Then, grinning, her offered Hiccup a hand. “No harm, Chief. I should have been more careful with what I said. Friends?”

“Friends.” Hiccup agreed, taking hold of his hand—ignoring the blood and viscera in the process.

✺ ✺ ✺

By noon, Eret had skinned and prepared his deer, washed the blood from his hands, regained his tunic, and joined the twins at one of the camp’s few tables for lunch. Tuffnut was now on his left, a fork in his right hand and a cluster of poker cards in the other. His sister sat beside Eret, abandoning her ogling in favor of her lunch, though Hiccup suspected she was sending her brother signals across the table.

Finished with his own chores, Hiccup helped himself to a portion of fish and potatoes before taking the remaining seat beside Tuffnut.

Eret looked up from his hand, nodding briefly at him before returning to his game.

“Who’s winning?”

“Tuffnut,” Eret mumbled. “It’s like he knows what I’m going to play before I even think of it!”

“It’s just luck,  E,” Tuff said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m sure that’s all it is,” Hiccup said, taking a bite of his potatoes and giving Ruffnut a sideways look.

Lunch passed and Tuffnut cleaned house with Eret, who, against all judgments, remained none the wiser to the twins’ antics.

“Hiccup! Viggo! Heather!”

Hiccup jumped from his seat, banging his knee on the table as he spun to see Gustav storming into the center of camp on the back of Fanghook. Shouting and waiving a newspaper above his head, he pulled his horse to a frantic stop.

Too many hands high for a boy his age, his horse had to lean down to allow him to dismount and by the time his feet had touched the ground, a circle had surrounded them.

“What is it, boy?” Viggo asked.

Placing a hand on Gustav’s shoulder, Hiccup looked down at him. “Gustav, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” His eyes quickly glanced over the boy, but he found nothing out of place but the wild look in his eyes.

“I was in Basheem,” Gustav started, adjusting his hat, “You know, pick-pocketing rich people like I do.”

Hiccup stepped back, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, of course. Like you do.” Crossing his arms across his chest, he huffed. “Dagur was a bad influence on you, Gustav.”

“That’s just it! Dagur _is_ a bad influence on me!” He corrected, pushing the newspaper toward Hiccup. “He’s still alive!”

Clumsy hands grabbed at the paper. “He’s what?”

Hiccup unfolded the newspaper, Viggo peering over his shoulder, a steady hand on his arm. Before him, the black and white typing seemed to run together in the bright, afternoon sun.

Around them, word traveled through the crowd, the noise of questions and demands for information from Hiccup filled the air until they fell silent at the sight of Heather. She pushed her way to the front of the circle. “What’s this about my brother?”

“He’s alive!” Gustav shouted excitedly.

“He’s…alive?” Heather’s eyes widened, and her mouth parted in shock. Then, she blinked, steadying herself. Looking to Hiccup for clarity, she urged him to explain the situation.

“He’s alive,” He confirmed, swallowing the lump in his throat. “He was being held in a maximum-security prison in the Bog. After the Berk…fiasco, they captured him alive and moved him to the prison.”

“So let’s go down there,” Heather urged, excitement building in her chest. “Let’s go get my brother!”

“He isn’t there anymore, dear girl,” Viggo said. “He’s in Berk.”

“Why would they move him to Berk?”

“Governor Haddock has him scheduled to hang in the morning.”

“So we need to get down there! We don’t have a lot of time!”

“Especially If we want good seats,” Hiccup joked.

Heather’s glare turned on him and Hiccup shrunk back against Viggo, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m only joking, Heather. We’ll ride out immediately.”

“Unfortunately, we will not ride out immediately,” Viggo interjected. “Berk is too dangerous for us to risk more men.”

Her ire turned from Hiccup to Viggo as she marched up to him. “We’re getting my brother, Viggo. If I have to go alone, I will.”

“No one’s going anywhere alone.” Hiccup said, putting a hand on her shoulder and pulling away from Viggo. “I’ll go with you.”

“Me too,” Snotlout said. “You’ll need someone as strong and talented as me in case things go bad. Which they will.”

“And me!” Gustav added.

Hiccup, dropping his hands from Heather’s arm, turned his attention to the boy. “You’ve already done more than enough, Gustav. You getting us this information was the best thing you could have done…Although, you could get our horses ready?”

Grinning, the boy gave Hiccup a mock salute before running toward the horse field.

Resting his hands on his waist, Hiccup eyed the crowd. “We do need another person, though. Someone they won’t recognize—our faces are on every board from Berk to Basheem. We’re dead if we try to walk into town.”

“Which is why I forbid you to go,” Viggo said. “You’re needed here.”

“We were all there, Hiccup. It’s just a risk we have to take.” Heather said, ignoring Viggo. “We need to get on the road—the fewer the people the less suspicious we’ll look.”

“Right,” He agreed. “But…Eret? Have you ever been to Berk?”

“Never.”

“Good. Will you ride with us?”

“Of course,” He said. “But I don’t have a horse.”

“You’ll take Skullcrusher. Come on.”

Viggo’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his late brother’s horse, but he made no vocal objection as Hiccup led Eret away. Stewing at the insubordination, Viggo ordered the rest of the gang to find work before disappearing into his tent with Johann.

✺ ✺ ✺

At the edge of the horse field, a large, bay and citrine colored horse grazed. Nearly sixteen hands high and with a neck thicker than Eret’s torso, the Dutch Draft horse towered over them.

Carefully, Hiccup placed Eret’s hand on the horse’s muzzle. “This is Skullcrusher. He can be a bit mean.”

Eret grinned, patting the horse. “Hello, you big ugly brute.”

At his touch, the horse leaned in, huffing through fist-sized nostrils. Seeing the horse reacting calmly, Eret made to saddle him.

“Once you’ve earned his trust, he's the best horse anyone could ask for.”

From behind, Toothless snorted.

“After you, of course, bud.” Hiccup corrected himself.

“Let’s go,” Heather urged, already mounted on Windshear’s back. “We’re wasting time.”

“Well, Chief?” Eret asked, climbing into Skullcrusher’s saddle. “Ready to ride?”

✺ ✺ ✺

The gang raced the sun west, keeping to the forest and weaving between the orange and red beams of light as they pushed down the mountain toward Berk. Through streams and over boulders, Hiccup led them closer to the arid plains he had once called home.

The thought of returning to Berk put a weight in his chest, and with each step forward, the weight grew. After the fiasco that was the Berk Massacre, he had sworn to himself that he would never return to the town.

Riding at the head, he pushed Toothless to go faster, swallowing his concerns and thinking only of his lost brother.

“Hiccup!” Heather called over the hoofbeats. Bringing Windshear to Toothless’s side, Heather’s face was flushed as she leaned in close to him. “Are you sure we can trust Eret with something like this?” He’s…He’s just so green.”

“I’m sure, Heather.” Hiccup assured her, rising up in his saddle to lean toward her.

“You better be.” She said. “I won’t let Dagur swing because some Bludvist won’t do what needs to be done. If it comes to it, I’ll kill anyone who stands in the way of saving my brother.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Hiccup shouted, and Toothless, responding to the (accidental) cue, skidded to a halt, nearly throwing Hiccup in the process. Around him, the other horses followed the example of their lead and came to a halt.

“Hey, what’re you doing!” Snotlout shouted, pulling Hookfang’s reins hard to the right to avoid a crash with Windshear.

Hiccup stared at Heather, taking in the look of anger and fear behind her eyes and remembering the reason her wanted posters called her _The Unhinged._ Typically, the more sensible of the Berserker siblings, family had always been her breaking point. “No one needs to die, Heather.”

“Guys, should we really be doing this now?” Snotlout interjected. “It’s almost dark and Berk is still a few hours away!”

“The plan is to be in and out, right?” Eret asked, bringing Skullcrusher to a complete halt. The horse stomped its front hooves and the ground beneath them shifted gently. “As Hiccup said, Berk won’t even know we were there.”

“Heather turned in the saddle to face Eret, cold eyes meeting his. “It won’t work like that. It never does. So you _better_ be prepared to do what needs to be done. You too, Hiccup.”

“I am, Heather. Believe me,” Hiccup urged. “I want our brother safe as much as you do.”

“Then get ready for a fight.” She said before spurring Windshear and disappearing into the trees.

Watching her retreat, Hiccup removed his hat, wiping the sweat from his brow and groaning.

“What’s her problem?” Eret asked, looking between Snotlout, who shrugged, and Hiccup.

“She’s just…worried.” Hiccup finally settled on. “Come on, we need to catch up with her.”

✺ ✺ ✺

Regrouped, they rode until night fell over the land and Toothless blended in with the darkness. Ducking and weaving between the thinning trees, Eret suddenly understood why the rider who led his party was named after the infamous stealth dragon of lore. Invisible in the darkness, by the time one would hear the hoofbeats of his horse, it would be too late.

To Hiccup’s right, Heather had fallen back in line, the silver of her horse barely visible as they passed through the trees.

With each passing minute, the ground below them grew more and drier and the trees thinned until Hiccup could see the break in the tree-line. Free of the trees, the plains and farmlands of Berk stretched out for miles.

“Once we break the tree line, we’ll be in the open. Stay close, gang.” Hiccup called.

“And then what?” Snotlout shouted back. “We can’t just charge into Berk.”

“There’s a hill to the north of town. We’ll set up base there.” He answered.

Heather turned her eyes toward the distance, where through the trees and passed the fields, the lights of Berk could be seen. “We’re coming, Dagur. Just hold on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on Tumblr: Wilderwestking !


	9. Justice is Found...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say it before every chapter, but wow did this one take a lot to write. Sorry for how long it took!

With the moon acting as their lantern, they charged across the plains, Hiccup leading them to the North of Berk. Careful to avoid the farmsteads and late-night travelers, he kept them away from the roads.

With the town's shadow falling over them, they hitched their horses beneath a ridge and set up a defensible position.

Bedrolls laid out in a circle, they left the comfort of their camp and climbed to the top of the ridge, settling down in the dried grass.

Leaving Eret to keep watch, Snotlout, Heather, and Hiccup turned their eyes toward the town. Peering through binoculars, Berk twinkled like a lighthouse amongst a dark ocean. From their spot, they could see the town center, string lights dangling from building-to-building to illuminate the streets below.

Many of the stores were closed, but people milled around on the cobblestone streets, enjoying the warm night air.

Hiccup zoomed in, his binoculars focusing on the government building situated at the end of the street. Centered in a grassy courtyard, construction workers were putting up the final touches of the hanging gallows.

"There." Hiccup said, pointing toward the building. "They're building the gallows."

The other two shifted their focus, eyes landing on the same platform.

"Flyers everywhere," Heather mumbled.

On every corner and entrance to the town, a man in a black and red uniform stood, gun in hand.

"What can you see?" Eret asked.

Hiccup offered the man his binoculars.

Settling on the ground beside them, the dried grass crunched and snapped as Eret put his weight down. He looked where Hiccup directed. Then, with a quiet whistle, he lowered the binoculars. "That's a lot of men. What did this Dagur fellow do to piss so many people off?"

"He killed half the town's police." Snotlout said.

"Set the place on fire, too," Heather added. "He caused the distraction that helped us escape."

"Regardless, Governor Haddock  _loves_ revenge. He loves shows like this." Hiccup said.

"It's like they're taunting us." Heather seethed, her hands gripping her binoculars tighter.

"So they're expecting us. What do we do now?" Eret asked.

Shaking his head, Hiccup sat back on his heels, boot spurs digging into the hard ground. "No, I don't think they're necessarily expecting us—"

"—guards are everywhere. Of course, they're expecting us!" Snotlout hissed.

"No, but they  _are_ taunting us." Hiccup said. "Governor Haddock is smart. Smart enough to know that Viggo treats everything like a game and smart enough to know that Viggo wouldn't risk himself for Dagur."

"So, what's his endgame then? If he knows Viggo wouldn't attempt a rescue, what's the point of all these men?"

"It's a show," Heather said, catching on. "A warning to other outlaws that this is their fate if they mess with Berk."

Hiccup nodded. "It makes the people of Berk feel safe. But Krogan is there. I know it. And he'll be looking for us."

"He won't find us," Heather said firmly. "A high-ranking man like him is likely asleep at this hour. We should slip into the jail and grab Dagur while they're sleeping."

"We don't even know if Dagur's there." Hiccup said, shaking his head.

"Where else would they be keeping him?"

"Governor's Hall. There are cells in the basement."

"So we don't even know where he is

there are guards on every street corner?" Snotlout groaned. "Great. That's just great!"

Heather stood up, dusting grass and dirt from her front. "I'm going down there and finding him."

Hiccup grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a gentle stop. "You'd be shot on sight, Heather."

Ripping his arm away, she walked down the ridge, taking her rifle from its holster on Windshear's saddle. "We're wasting time just sitting here, Hiccup."

"We don't even know what we're facing. Just wait, Heather. Please." Rubbing his hand across his jaw in anxious thought, he stared out toward the lights of Berk. Beneath his fingers, peach fuzz tickled his palm.

In his mind, he saw the posters from Basheem. No doubt, it would be the same, if not worse, in Berk. He looked back toward Heather. Her dark hair was braided over her shoulder in the same manner as the day they attempted to rob Berk. If she were to be spotted, she would be killed on sight. "We need to know what we're facing. Then we can rescue Dagur." Hiccup stood up, turning to offer Eret a hand. "Eret can go to town, get us an accurate idea of how many men they have and where Dagur is being held."

"Won't they be suspicious of a stranger riding into town this late?" Eret asked, pulling himself up.

"There's a hanging tomorrow. I'd bet my last leg the town is full of people coming to watch. One more stranger won't draw attention."

"Saloons full," Snotlout commented, peering through his binoculars at one of the brighter-lit buildings. The only one still on the ground, he sat up, brushing his front of the dust that had pressed into his vest.

"I…I suppose we can wait." Heather said, "But just until Eret gets back and we know what we're up against. Dagur only has so much time."

"It's fine." Hiccup reassured. "We'll get him. Don't worry." He joined Heather at the bottom of the ridge, a comforting hand resting on her shoulder. "Eret, it's early enough that walking into town shouldn't turn heads. Go straight to the saloon, order a drink or two, and keep your ears to the ground. Nobody gossips like drunks."

"Aye, Chief," Eret said, unhitching Skullcrusher. "I'll be back before the sun is up. You can count on it."

"Good. Then we'll get Dagur out and Berk will never see us again. It's a big Archipelago after all."

"And Hiccup?" Eret asked, looking down at him from Skullcrusher's saddle. "Try to get some sleep, yeah?"

✺ ✺ ✺

"You guys are  _really_ unpopular in Berk," Eret said, his cheeks flushed. Walking with a relaxed swagger, he arrived back at camp before the sun had risen, just as he had promised. In tow, Skullcrusher followed dutifully, looking tired and annoyed with his new human.

Hiccup yawned. "Tell me about it." Stretching his arms above his head, he sat up on his bedroll. "How much did you drink?"

"Enough to be believable."

Eret hitched Skullcrusher with the other horses and settled onto the grass beside Hiccup's bedroll.

"What did you see?" Heather asked, sitting up from her own bed. A thin blanket fell around her and her hair stood out at odd angles, but her blood-streaked eyes showed that she hadn't slept in his absence.

"Security is everywhere. In the bar, on the streets, at every entrance to the town. Flyers, lawmen, bounty hunters…even a few soldiers. And your faces are plastered all over the place." Eret dug through his satchel, producing two posters. On the yellowed paper, the same black and white images from Basheem were printed.

"Any posters of me?" Snotlout asked, entering the lantern light, his rifle slung over his shoulder from where he had been keeping watch.

"No, none for Snotlout," Eret said. "Though I did see a few posters for somebody named Snothat…Is that a relative of yours?"

"What? Why! I…It's Snotlout!  _Snotlout!"_

"Oi. Oi. Oi." Hiccup monotoned, grabbing Snotlout by his elbows and pulling him down onto the bedroll beside him. "Did you get eyes on Dagur?"

Eret shook his head. "I scoped out the jail, but I don't think he's there, Chief."

"So if he's in the Governor's Hall, what do we do?" Heather asked.

"Hiccup can break him out." Snotlout volunteered.

"No, Hiccup cannot." Hiccup replied quickly. "We're not going anywhere near the manor."

Heather opened her mouth to argue, but Hiccup's glare was so absolute that she shrunk back. "Then what do we do, Hiccup? How are we going to get my brother?"

He didn't have an answer for her.

Sitting in uncomfortable silence, the three of them kept their gaze on Hiccup. Lost in thought, he stared past them into the darkness.

It was a fool's errand to even attempt to break into the Governor's mansion. He knew every room and window and stairway of the house and he still didn't feel comfortable attempting a break-in with Krogan and his Flyers using the place as headquarters.

He knew Dagur's cell would be in the deepest part of the manor, likely guarded with men armed to the teeth.

Furthermore, the manor was likely where Stoick was. And if his father were to catch one of them…if his father was to catch him.

If only there was a way they could steal Dagur when none of them would expect it…

Hiccup ran a tired hand through his mess of hair, pushing it out of his face. Then, looking quickly to Heather, an idea formed. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" He repeated.

She nodded. "Of course I do. But what is this about?"

"I know how we're going to get Dagur, but it's going to be risky."

"What's the plan?" Snotlout asked, scooching closer to Hiccup.

"They'll have Dagur guarded every moment until he's on the platform with the noose around his neck, right?"

"I guess so?"

"So," Hiccup started, eyes lighting up as his thoughts whirled faster than his words. "It doesn't make sense to try and break into the governor's hall. There are too many guards and even if we made it out with Dagur, we'd have to fight off the entire town."

"So what's your plan? We can't just leave him there."

"My plan is to get him before they pull the lever. It's when they'll have their guard down and our best chance to strike—I'm sure of it. We get him down, disappear into the confused crowd, and we're gone before they realize who we are."

"One problem," Snotlout said.

"What is it?"

"How do we get him off the platform?"

"Someone shoots the rope." He said as though it was obvious. Around him, the faces of his friends were a mixture of confusion and shock. "We'll have someone—probably Heather—planted in the crowd to grab Dagur when he falls, and we'll have another person ready with the horses."

"And who's going to take the shot? If they miss it's game over." Snotlout said critically.

"Hiccup should take the shot," Heather said. "He's our best marksman by far."

Snotlout scoffed.

The gang gave him a hard look.

"Snotlout, do you want to take the shot?" Hiccup asked.

"…No, but I think it's unfair to place such a high burden on one member. Think of the pressure, Hiccup!" He said crossing his arms.

"Can you make the shot, Chief?"

Hiccup nodded. "I'll make the shot. Just be in position when I do."

✺ ✺ ✺

Walking through the streets of his childhood home, Hiccup had never felt more like a stranger. He had lived in Berk for so much of his life and yet, he felt as though he were visiting the town for the first time.

The dirt and cobblestone streets beneath his feet were unfamiliar and the people who pushed their way toward the city hall were strangers.

Keeping Toothless to Hookfang's right, Hiccup and Snotlout had slipped in with the crowd, right under the nose of the Flyer who was stationed at the gate.

"I've never seen it so crowded before," Snotlout said, eyes wide and elbows tucked close to his body as led Hookfang through the crowd.

"That's because you've only ever been here to rob the place." Hiccup whispered back.

"Yeah, but I didn't even know Berk had this many people!"

"They're not all from Berk. Merchants and tourists flock to towns like this when there's a hanging."

"You mean this a normal thing?"

Hiccup shrugged, shoulder brushing against Toothless's neck. "The crowd is bigger than normal—probably because it's Dagur. But yeah, people love watching these things. Dad used to make me attend them all the time as a kid. Said it was important that those who make the laws are there to see justice carried out. I always hated it."

"Your dad made you watch people being hanged? And I thought my dad was bad!"

Brushing off the conversation, Hiccup turned down a side street, the sounds of merchants pushing their wares filling the air. "The larger crowd is good, though. Fewer people looking our way. More people to get lost in, more people to block the path of the law when we run away."

They passed by a bakery, the warm smell of freshly baked bread filling the air. Outside, picnic tables had been set up and families were eating their lunch. Children, hands full of sweets, darted in and out of the store, laughing as they waived between people's legs and dodged horses' hooves.

Snotlout, catching Hiccup staring at them, put an arm on his shoulder. "Does it look familiar?"

"The town?"

"Mhm."

Hiccup shrugged under the weight of Snotlout's arm. "I mean…between Dagur and I, we burnt down a third of it…But yeah, I suppose. Some of it. I recognize the streets and store names and some of the people…" His eyes fell to the end of the street where the blacksmith's forge was located. The closer the walked toward it, the louder the beating of a hammer grew. "But…I also feel like it's a different town. With different people. It's not my town. Not anymore." He took a shaky breath, the beating of the hammer too loud for his ears. Grabbing Snotlout, he pulled him into an alley, leading him to a new street, away from the blacksmith. "Other times...It feels like someone will recognize me at any moment."

"No one's going to notice you." Snotlout comforted. "You worry too much. You need to focus on the mission. It would be really embarrassing for you if you missed and Daugr  _chhhk!"_  Snotlout pantomimed someone being hung.

"I'll make the shot." Hiccup said bitterly, swatting at Snotlout's hands until he stopped his choking noises.

Snotlout clasped Hiccup on the shoulder. "Besides, with me beside you, no one would waste their time looking at you."

Despite himself and despite their circumstances, Hiccup laughed. "Yeah, okay, Snot."

The closer they walked to the main street, the thicker the crowds became. With their horses, it was becoming too difficult to push through the streets. So, pulling them to a stop behind the last building on the street, Hiccup handed Toothless's reins to Snotlout. He pulled a scoped rifle from the saddle. Tucking it over his shoulder, he patted Toothless. "I think it's best we split up here. I can get a good vantage point from the roof. Just make sure when I whistle, Toothless can get to me."

Snotlout nodded, tucking his hat down to hide his face, fingering his shirt collar for his handkerchief. "I got it. Be careful, Hiccup, okay?"

One arm on the fire escape, Hiccup reached out, embracing Snotlout's forearm tightly. "You too, Snot."

✺ ✺ ✺

Constructed in front of Berk's city hall, the gallows stood as a symbol of justice and retribution for the people of Berk.

Spectators swarmed to the hall's courtyard, bodies packed in as they pushed closer and closer to the wooden platform. Fathers lifted their children to sit on their shoulders to offer a better view. Merchants weaved through the crowd, carrying baked goods and freshly cooked meats.

On the edges of the crowd, uniformed men kept order.

Stationed on the roof, directly across from the gallows, Hiccup could see them all. Settling in on his stomach, he put the scoped rifle into position and looked down the sights. Near the front of the crowd, Heather's familiar black hair could be seen. Positioned in the front, she would be the easiest for Dagur to recognize.

Toward the back of the mass, Hiccup watched as Eret leaned casually against a lamppost. The trapper was watching the armed guards, likely keeping a mental tally of where they were and how many there were.

Swinging the barrel of the gun around, he looked toward his former home where tall trees led up to the manor. Through the trees, he could see Krogan leaned against one of the marble columns. Tanned hat shading his face, the man appeared relaxed as he waited. Across from him, an empty transport wagon sat, the door to the cell opened in preparation.

Anxiety prickled at the back of Hiccup's neck. Like little mosquito bites, the fear of failure bit at him. Fighting back the feeling, he watched Sheriff Hofferson and his deputy appear from the side of the manor, the bound form of Dagur in their arms.

Wrists tied and a sack over his head, the outlaw could only struggle as they pushed him down the granite steps and into the transport wagon. Haphazardly tossed, Dagur scrambled to his knees, likely yelling obscenities at the men.

Einar climbed into the front of the wagon, his deputy banging the butt of his gun against the cell before joining him.

Words unheard were exchanged and Krogan pushed off from the column, climbing into the saddle of his horse. Then, the reins of the wagon were whipped and the carriage darted forward, Krogan and two of his Flyers following behind.

Hiccup lifted his black handkerchief to cover his face, breathing in the familiar smell of the fabric and using it to steady himself. Adjusting his position, he turned away from the oncoming wagon and focused on the gallows.

His eyes scanned the platform, looking for his father. "Where is he?" Hiccup muttered to himself, eyes darting to the crowd. At nearly seven feet tall and with a bright, red beard, his father was not the kind of man who could slip by unnoticed.

Cheers from below told Hiccup that the wagon had reached the city, and as the crowds parted to allow the transport to the platform, his father appeared from city hall. Dressed in a formal suit, he looked older than Hiccup remembered. His face was wrinkled and grey streaks ran through his breaded beard.

Following at his side was Astrid. Ax holstered on her back and pistols hanging from her waist, she looked more like a savage bounty hunter than the daughter of a respected lawman. Her lips moved, speaking quietly to Stoick.

Whatever she had said caused the man to laugh and he clapped her on the back as they ascended the platform together.

Standing at attention on the gallows, Astrid's cold eyes surveyed the crowd with diligence. If anyone were to notice Heather in the crowd, it would be her…

But despite himself, Hiccup grinned, imagining the look on Astrid's face when—if—they were able to accomplish their mission. Stealing Dagur right out from under her nose…In his mind, he could see the wrinkles on her forehead as her brow furrowed and he could see the whites of her teeth as she curled her lips up in an angry snarl.

Eyes like ice, hidden beneath the blonde silk of her bangs, burning into his back as he rode away…

Hiccup shook the thought from his head, admonishing himself for getting distracted.

In the courtyard, the wagon had come to a stop, Krogan's Flyers ordering the crowd to step back as Einar rounded the wagon to unlock the cell.

Hiccup moved his scope to focus on the wagon, watching as Dagur was grabbed by Einar's solid hands and pulled from the cell.

Clothed in rags, Dagur looked thinner than Hiccup remembered him, but the purple tattoos that were scattered across his pale flesh assured him that it was really his brother.

"Murderer!" A voice from the crowd called.

"Thief!" Came another.

Hiccup saw a flash of grey fly through the air, striking Dagur on the side of his head. The rock thudded to the ground, and Hiccup swore under his breath in fear that Heather would rush from the crowd to protect him.

Undefended, Dagur dealt with the blow on his own.

Einar pushed him toward the stairs.

With blind, clumsy steps he ascended the gallows with less fight than expected, though Hiccup could see his hands wringing behind his back as he struggled to find a way out of the ropes. Positioned over the trap door, Dagur's chest heaved as he came to a halt.

To a roar of applause, Einar ripped the canvas from Dagur's head, revealing the carrot-topped outlaw to the crowd. Squinting against the sun, he stared out into the throng of people.

Through his scope, Hiccup took Dagur in; cuts and bruises riddled his face but amongst the scruff and the hard-edges and the bruises, he still cut an imposing figure on the gallows, instilling fear in the people of Berk.

The crowd's applause turned to quiet anticipation as Dagur glared out at them and Stoick stepped forward.

"Today, Berk gets justice!" Stoick shouted arms spread and a proud smirk on his face. "This man, stands before you a thief, an arson, and a murderer. He along with the rest of Viggo Grimborn's ilk brought destruction upon Berk and today we get justice."

Hiccup's eyes stayed on Dagur. His eyes were hard, his shoulders shifting as he pulled at the ropes. Then, as though a weight was pulled from his bones, Dagur's face relaxed. Green eyes frozen on the second row, he had found Heather amongst the crowd.

"…But the people of Berk are good and hardworking. We have overcome trial after trial and…" Stoick's voice droned on, Hiccup zoning in and out as he cleared his mind in preparation for the shot.

Snotlout was right about the pressure. Hiccup felt like he was drowning. Stones tied to his ankles, he was pulled deeper and deeper into the water. He worried about missing the shot. He worried about his friends who were relying on him to get them out of this town safely. He worried about his father finding him…He worried about what his father would think of him.

Subconsciously, his eyes roamed to Einar's hands, where the hangman's noose rested.

"Dagur Oswaldson," Stoick boomed, pulling Hiccup back into focusing on his brother. "Before Odin and the people of Berk. I, Stoick Haddock, sentence you to hang by the neck until dead for your crimes. Do you have any last words?"

Hiccup, unable to hear Dagur's response, raised the scoped rifle, eyeing down the sights.

Einar lowered the noose over the man's head, tightening the knots at the base of the neck until Dagur's look of anger became a look of panic. Suddenly, it was very real for him. Hiccup watched his eyes dart between Heather and Einar.

Stepping to the side, Einar's hands gripped the wooden lever, and with the roar of the crowd at its peak, pulled it forward, dropping the trapdoors to send Dagur to his death.

Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth to settle the spinning world, Hiccup took his shot.


End file.
